


Just another one of those days...

by SpacePenguin11



Category: The Brittas Empire
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpacePenguin11/pseuds/SpacePenguin11
Summary: Helen’s going all out trying to impress her husband. Gordon Brittas, however, seems to have his sights set elsewhere.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rehash of the episode ‘Mum’s and Dad’s,’ with some lines/ideas stolen from other episodes.  
> Some Red Dwarf steals too.
> 
>  
> 
> Focusing of course on Gordon/Laura
> 
> Timeline glitch: Laura knows about Brittas (potentially) having knocked up Carole in this fic.
> 
> Will rate individual chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated General Audience

“You look fine Helen,” sighed Laura.

Helen was her best friend. The whole ‘Do I look ok in this dress thing?,’ however was beginning to get a little tedious.

Laura had been with Helen when she had bought the dress, and at the time her managers wife had been moaning that it wasn’t good enough. Two and a half hours of trawling through dress shops had become too much for Laura. She loved clothes shopping like every other woman, but now her patience was starting to run out. 

‘Just bloody hurry up and pick one Helen,’ she had thought to herself.

The dress that Helen had currently been trying on came with a pretty hefty price tag. The deputy manager could never in a million years justify spending so much on a dress. Helen however, didn’t seem to need any justification whatsoever. 

‘She seems to greatly enjoy spending her husbands money,’ 

The other woman must have picked up on Laura’s agitation for she, to Laura’s great delight, decided to settle with the current gown.

But now she was parading up and down the younger woman’s front room, panicking that it didn’t look right.

 

It was, in Laura’s opinion, a stunning dress. It was a strapless purple silk ball gown, and the colour and fit matched her friend so completely, it was almost as if it had been made for her.

‘I wonder how I would look in a dress like that?’ she mused.

Not that it mattered at any rate. She would be wearing her floral, cotton blouse and skirt that she had bought for a christening about four or five years ago.

Glancing at it in the mirror yesterday, she had thought she looked quite nice, but it was more than a little plain when compared with Helens.  
Laura’s pay rate wasn’t bad, but it was nowhere near enough to justify spending a shedload of money on an outfit that she’d probably only wear once. Her stupid car was on the way out, and it made a lot more sense to spend the money on that.

“I’ve got to look perfect though Laura!” said Helen, cutting through her thoughts,  
“Everything has to be perfect! Besides...Gordon hasn’t been paying much attention to me lately,” she said adjusting her bosom.  
“Hopefully this will get him in the mood.”

“I’m sure it will,” the younger woman reassured her. She glanced at her watch.

“Helen I really need to go, otherwise I’m going to have to fill in a late form.”

“Oh don’t worry Laura I’ll say it was my fault if he starts getting nasty about it.”

She turned to Laura and gave her a big hug.

“Thank you, I really appreciate you taking the time to give me your opinion.’

“It’s fine,” said Laura,  
“What are friends for?”

 

Walking into the centre they were greeted by a grand piano which was overturned on its side and seemed to be blocking the majority of the reception area.

Tim, Gavin and Colin appeared to be trying to get it upright again.

“Why do I get the feeling it’s going to be one of those days, Laura?” said Helen.

“You’ll never be able to move that with just the three of you!” said Laura.

“Brittases orders,” said Tim.

“That’s ridiculous! Come on Helen, lets give them a hand.”

The two women joined in with the lifting.

“I’m sorry I can’t help,” said a very pregnant Carole from the reception desk.  
“I feel a little useless.”

“You’re fine Carole,” said Helen straining against the giant musical instrument.

Suddenly, the worlds most annoying voice came floating down the stairs, followed shortly by the man it belonged to.

“What’s going on here?” he questioned.  
I instructed the three of you to move this piano, why are Helen and Laura assisting you?”

“We can’t move it Mr Brittas!” growled Tim angrily.

“And you think it’s acceptable to rope women into helping you?”

“We really don’t mind Mr Brittas.”

“I don’t care whether you mind or not Laura, this is a task involving heavy lifting, it’s far too much exertion for the delicate female frame!”

Helen rolled her eyes at Laura.

“They can’t do it by themselves Gordon!”

“That’s not for you to worry about my darling, besides dad will be down in a minute to help them out,”

“Your father’s here?” asked Helen.

“He’s just in the toilet,” confirmed Brittas,  
“So you can leave that piano alone and go and busy yourselves doing something else.” 

The ‘something else’ was delivered in the irritating tone that the leisure centres manager often chose to end his sentences with.

“We’re fine busying ourselves doing this,” said Helen.

“As I have already said my darling, this work is not suitable for...”

“Alright Gordon!” she interrupted,  
“Come on Laura, lets go and check on the booze situation.”

Laura followed Helen into the staffroom where the evenings provisions had been stored.

As they were counting the wine bottles, Helen suddenly said,

“Do you know we haven’t had sex for almost a month Laura!?”

“Well,” the younger woman was a little unsure as to how to respond to this comment.

“Perhaps he’s just a bit stressed out with work or something?”

“No Laura, something doesn’t feel right...it’s almost as if...I dont know, it feels like he’s gone off me.”

“Surely not,” said Laura sitting down.

“He hardly pays me any attention anymore. If he didn’t have such an unbelievingly irritating personality, I’d have assumed that he was having an affair,” said Helen pouring herself a coffee.  
“Do you want one?” she said, holding a mug up.

“Yes please,” said Laura, watching Helen pour the coffees and sit down at the table.

“Helen, if he irritates you as much as you say he does, why are you with him?”

“Oh I don’t know...I suppose he’s good looking...in his own strange way. If I use my imagine a little, he can sometimes look like Harrison Ford.

“Harrison Ford, are you serious?” Laura was on the verge of bursting out laughing.

“What’s funny?” enquired the other woman, but she had a smile on her face.

“I really can’t see Harrison Ford in him!”

“Well, the lighting has to be just right...and his head does have to be turned in the right direction, but sometimes it’s there,” she said wistfully.

“The two of you aren’t terribly compatible though are you?” asked Laura, taking a sip of her coffee.

“No,” sighed Helen,  
“No, I suppose we’re not. Well except in the bedroom of course. Believe it or not he is actually good at something. Do you know,” she lowered her voice despite the fact that there was no one else in the room to hear what she was saying,

“He does this thing where...”

“A little too much information Helen,” interrupted Laura.  
She really didn’t want images of her boss and her best friend getting it on.

“No, no I suppose not. Sorry Laura, I just wish he would show some interest in me again.”  
She put her untouched cup of coffee down on the table and pushed it away from her, causing Laura to wonder why she had poured it out in the first place.”

“You’ll blow his mind when he sees you in that dress,” she said.

“I hope so Laura, I really do,” she suddenly glanced at her watch,  
“Oh I’ve got to go and give Jonathan’s teacher a ring!”

As she left Laura sighed

“I’m fine Helen, thanks for asking.”

Of course she wasn’t fine. Her estranged husband Michael had been pestering her non stop lately, he’d been calling her three to four times a day, desperate for her to give him another chance. That of course would never happen in a million years. He was a money hungry narcissist who had cheated on her, and was only really interested in her uterus anyway. His father had threatened to cut him out of the will if he didn’t produce a child. Well, he would simply have to go and impregnate some other woman. She was not going to fall for his tricks and lies again. She couldn’t imagine why she had ever got with him in the first place.

‘Because he’s good looking Laura.’

He was tall, dark and handsome, not to mention charming. His American accent was smooth and sultry, and it had literally made her weak at the knees when they were first going out with each other.

‘That’s why you married him isn’t is Laura? Because you fancied the pants off him? You knew nothing about the kind of man he was.’

In time she had wised up to him, and now she well and truly refused to give him the time of day, despite how lonely she was.

And she was lonely.

 

He house always seemed so cold and empty when she got home from work.  
She knew plenty of women who adored having their own space. They loved being able to do what they wanted, when they wanted.

Laura wasn’t one of those women.  
Coming home to a husband and a houseful of children was what she wanted more than anything. 

Perhaps that was another reason that she had been so keen to wed Michael. 

With a family who all lived down in the West Country she felt isolated on a regular basis. Her colleagues had become family to her, and so she was always jumping at the chance to do overtime.

And of course there was Helen, true she drove Laura up the wall sometimes...but she meant well...most of the time.

They were more like sisters than friends. 

There were times when the loneliness got to her so much though, she cried herself to sleep.

And so it was easy to get annoyed with Helen from time to time She had a pretty good life from where Laura was sitting. She didn’t have to work, and she certainly didn’t do any housework. The number of times Laura had gone round there and found her friend laying on the sofa drinking wine, in the midst of a chaotic living room filled with piles of laundry and dirty plates stacked here and there

When Laura had enquired about the state of the house, Helen had simply replied, 

“Oh Gordon will sort it when he gets home.”

 

Yes, definitely the perfect lifestyle.

‘Careful Laura, you’re starting to sound jealous,’ her mind warned.

Well so what if she was.

Her best friend had a husband, albeit an irritating one, that came home to her every evening.

But he wasn’t irritating all the time. On the less irritating days, he could be quite charming in a strange kind of way. Nowhere near the realms of ‘Michael Farrell’ charming, but he came a close second.  
On those days he was almost likeable, and looks wise he wasn’t so bad, maybe even...

The man in question suddenly burst through the staff room door with Colin following on behind him.

“Please Mr Brittas! My mother’s given me a wonderful lemon drizzle cake recipe, I could pop off home and make it in my lunch break!”

“The answer’s no Colin! I am not having anything on that buffet table that’s been made by you!”

“But the abscess on my hand has almost gone now! Look!”  
He proffered the hand up to his managers face.

“Get that thing out of my face Colin!” The taller man replied, wrinkling his nose up in disgust.

Laura mimicked her managers expression as the mouldy scent of the poultice hit her nostrils as well.

“It’s not contagious!” the pool manager protested.

“I said no Colin! Now get out of my sight!”

Colin obediently left, looking more than a little downcast.

Registering her managers bad mood, she set her unfinished coffee down on the table and began to count the wine bottles that her and Helen were supposed to be doing.

But his mood seemed to have softened now he was in the presence of her.

“That’s alright Laura, sit down and finish your coffee.”

“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting back down at the table.

“No Laura I am not alright” he sighed,  
“The pianist hasn’t shown up yet, the bakery I ordered the sandwiches from has messed up the order, Colin won’t stop pestering me about his bloody cake, my wife’s spending is out of control, my dad wants a tour of the bloody centre, and there’s a grand piano stuck on it’s side in my reception area!”

“Anything I can help with?” she asked softly.

“I’m not sure I really know where to start Laura.”

“I’ll deal with the bakery,” she said decidedly, “And I’ll show your dad round the centre.  
That’s two things crossed off your list.”

“Thank you Laura,” he said smiling at her.  
“How are you anyway?”

This question took her aback momentarily, she didn’t think he’d ever really shown an interest about her welfare the whole time she’d known him.

“I’m fine,” she replied simply.

He studied her face for a moment or two, as if he were checking for sincerity.  
Eventually he said,

“You sure?”

His facial expression reflected such kindness that she almost found herself spilling everything which was currently wrong with her life.

Almost.

Instead she just smiled and said,

“I’m sure.”

There was silence for a bit. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, it was a comfortable one that often occurred when two friends were in the company of one another.

Eventually she said,

“You know it’s a very nice dress that Helens bought.”

“I don’t doubt that Laura but it’s not just the dress, it’s everything! She spends all day everyday pestering me for my chequebook, I don’t even know what it is she’s buying anymore!”

“Why don’t you just say no?”

He looked her square in the eye.

“Have you met my wife, Laura?  
She’s not easy to say no to. She puts me on a guilt trip about how I don’t love her, or care about her welfare. She says that her friends husbands buy things for them all the time.  
I just really don’t know what to do with her sometimes!”

Laura felt a strong empathy for the man in front of her. Helen could indeed be a master manipulator when she wanted to be.

She noticed that something on her hand had clearly caught his attention, as he was staring intently at it.

“That’s a pretty ring,” he said, taking hold of the finger in question and gently twisting the item of jewellery from side to side in order to get a better look at it.

This was unusual behaviour for him, but then he did seem to be in a very strange mood today and so she didn’t read an awful lot into it.

 

“Thank you, it was a 21st birthday present from my parents.  
I don’t wear it much, I’m always worried it will get damaged.” 

She admired it herself, it was probably the most expensive piece of jewellery that she owned, but it had more sentimental value than anything else. It was two rose gold interlocking hearts, with a small diamond set in the centre.

He kept his hold on her finger for a little longer then said.

“Laura I...”  
The door opened.

“I’ve already told you Colin...” said the manager without looking round.

“No Mr Brittas it’s not that.”

“Well what is it then,” he replied impatiently .

“Vlad has arrived.”

“Oh thank god for that!” he said  
“That’s one less thing to worry about!”

“There’s just a slight problem though Mr Brittas,” said Colin sheepishly.

“What is it Colin?” 

“I may have accidentally shut his hand in the door.” 

The deputy wet then scuttled out of the room as fast as he could manage, clearly anticipating a severe reprimand.

The man across from her pinched the bridge of his nose and said,

“I’m going to kill him.”

It was more than obvious to her that his bad mood was well and truly back, as she watched him storm out of the staffroom. Not long after his exit, she heard.

“Colin Weatherby, get back here this instant!!!”

Laura smiled and drank down the last of her coffee.

It was certainly going to be one of those days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audience

Heading into the staff room to get changed after her aerobics class, Laura found Helen showing off her dress to Mr Brittas senior.

“Oh that’s beautiful Helen,” Jim was saying  
“My Gordon’s certainly a lucky man!”

“Helen how many times!?” cried Laura in exasperation.

“I know! I know! I suppose I just wanted a mans opinion.”

She bustled off in to the shower room to change.

 

“So have you got a fella on the go?” said Jim, turning to face Laura.

“Me? No. Men are just an unnecessary complication if you ask me.” 

She meant that statement, well and truly.

“Ahh that’s probably a very wise decision my dear. Although if you were to find a man like my Gordon, you’d be set for life!”

Clearly the man had no concept of his sons numerous shortcomings.

“Yes, I suppose I will,” she replied, unsure as to how else to respond to that statement.  
“Anyway, I’m just going to change quickly and then I’ll give you a tour!”

“Can’t Gordon do it?’

“Otherwise engaged,” she replied,  
“But I know my way around the place just as well as he does, believe me,” she smiled.

She actually enjoyed escorting Mr Brittas senior around the centre. He was a kindly man, very soft spoken, and incredibly polite. She wondered if his son had ever possessed those qualities or if he had been born a complete pain in the backside.

She suspected the latter.

 

After showing Jim round, she was pleased to see that the sandwiches had arrived down in reception.

Carole was busy sorting them onto silver foil trays.

She also noticed that the piano had magically disappeared.

“Carole wheres the piano gone?”

“Oh they managed to move it to the gymnasium,” she said. 

“How on earth did they manage to get it upright? Let alone get it through the doors?”

“I honestly don’t know Laura, I managed to get out of helping by saying I had a stomach ache. Mr Brittas didn’t believe me though, he shouted at me.” 

She looked as though she had been crying.

“He shouted at you?”

Carole nodded, biting her bottom lip.

“He said that I looked perfectly alright to him and that he was going to give me a disciplinary for refusing to help. You should have seen the look in his eyes Laura, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry

The receptionist was visibly trembling.

“Carole are you alright?” asked Laura, a note of concern to her voice.

“What? Oh yes! I’m sure he didn’t intend to be so nasty. I’m probably just a bit over emotional anyway. Hormones, you know?”

But Laura knew hormones weren’t to blame here. There was only one culprit. The infamous Gordon Brittas, behaving like an insensitive pillock as usual. 

 

She could see that the receptionist had sneaked a cheese sandwich under the desk.  
She noticed Laura looking at it, and her eyes grew wide with panic.

“It’s alright Carole, I’m not going to tell on you.”

The woman in front of her was instantly relieved.

“Thank you Laura, I’m just so hungry all the time. It wasn’t like this at all when I was pregnant with Ben. I just seem to need...”

She was interrupted by a howl of pain, which emanated from the direction of the gymnasium.

Brittas and Tim came in supporting Gavin who was struggling to walk, and moaning loudly.

“What the hell’s going on?” asked Laura.

“Gavin’s hurt his foot,” said the manager irritably.

He was devoid of his blazer, and wearing a crisp white shirt with a blue and grey striped tie.

“No HE hurt my foot!’ cried Gavin.  
“He put the piano down on it!”

“I did not put the piano down on your foot Gavin! I put the piano down on the floor. I was not expecting your foot to be in the way at the time”

“So it’s MY fault I’m injured?”

“Well it certainly isn’t mine!”

“Do you not feel at all bad about what you’ve done!?” asked Tim heatedly.

Choosing to ignore Tim’s question, Brittas set off on a tirade of his own.

“I need all hands on deck today! I don’t have the time or energy to be dealing with a staff member with a broken foot!”

“Well you should have thought about that before you tried to crush it with a grand piano!”

“What happened was not my fault Timothy!” the manager reiterated.

“You never take responsibility for anything do you Brittas?”

“Thats MR Brittas to you Timothy Whistler!”

“Can you please sit me down!” wailed Gavin, who was getting paler by the minute.

They managed to get him over to the bottom of the stairs, where he sat down with a sigh of relief.

“Carole,” snapped Brittas, causing her to jump and drop the sandwich that she had been secretly nibbling at. 

“Sort Gavins foot out!”

“Yes Mr Brittas,” she replied all too eagerly, desperate not to incur his wrath for the second time that day. She took the first aid kit off the wall and hurried over to Gavin as quickly as her pregnant state would allow.

“Mr Brittas we need to have a word...”

“I’m very busy at the moment Laura” he said, picking up a tray of sandwiches and heading off in the direction of the gymnasium.

She rolled her eyes in frustration.

“What was he doing lifting the bloody piano in the first place?” she asked, watching Carole tending to Gavin’s foot.

“Apparently the floor in the gymnasium isn’t quite level,” said Tim sarcastically. 

“And he said the piano had to look just right otherwise the whole evening would be ruined! He was trying to put a book under one of the feet, of course that involved taking the wheel off first...”

“He got his spirit level out and everything!” said Gavin, between hisses of pain.

“But I don’t understand how he even managed to lift it in the first place!” 

“He didn’t Laura!’ said Tim with his arms folded tightly across his chest. It was possibly the angriest she’d ever seen the man. 

“That’s the whole point. It was clearly a lot heavier than he thought it was going to be. He only managed to lift it a little way and then his arms obviously began to give out. Gavin moved in to try and help, and that’s when the moron dropped it on his foot!”

“How’s it looking Carole?”

“My first aid is terribly basic Laura, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken.  
I can do my best to patch it up, but I really think he should go to the hospital.”

“No! No! Please!” panicked Gavin.

“He hates hospitals,” said Tim.  
“Believe me, that would stress him out much more than the pain in his foot!”

“Alright, well I think you definitely need to take him home at any rate” said Laura.

Gavin opened his mouth to say something and she quickly replied,

“I’ll square it with the boss, don’t worry.”

“Thank you Laura,” said Tim gratefully.  
“It’s a bloody good job you’re here, we all would have left long ago if it was just Brittas in charge.”

And Tim was right, she knew this. Most days she felt like the glue holding the whole place together.

“Come on Gavin,” she said approaching him.  
“Let’s get you out to the car.”

 

When she returned, Helen was showing Carole her earrings for the evening.

The woman in question appeared to be in one of her manic moods, she seemed to be almost buzzing with energy.

Laura noticed a can of Red Bull beside her on the desk and wondered if she’d been on the energy drinks all afternoon.

“Hello Laura!” said Helen, before quickly turning her attention back to the receptionist.

“See they’re not quite right with the dress, are they Carole??!”

“Well I haven’t seen your dress Mrs Brittas, but I think the earrings look very nice.”

“Trust me Carole, they’re not right!,” said the managers wife firmly.  
“Where’s Gordon? I need his chequebook.”

Laura wondered if the earrings genuinely didn't look right, or if it was just another excuse for some more mindless spending

“I think he’s in the gymnasium helping to set up the buffet,” she said.

“Right,” said the other woman, making to leave the reception area.

“Umm Helen?”

“Yes?” her friend turned round.

“He’s really not in a good mood right now.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Laura, I have my ways,” she winked at the younger woman.

‘Your manipulative abilities you mean?’ thought Laura to herself as she watched her friend go speeding off down the corridor.

“Come on Carole,” said Laura,  
“I think you and I deserve a well earned coffee break.”

“I can’t leave the desk...”

“The desk will be fine for ten minutes or so Carole, come on.”

Laura was just in the process of pouring milk into the coffees when Colin shot through the door like a bullet from a gun, very nearly spilling it all down the front of her shirt.

“Colin!?” she shrieked angrily.

“I’ve been fired!” he wailed

“What!?” Why!?”

“I sneezed on the pavlova!”  
“Mr Brittas said it was the last straw after what I did to Vlad’s hand!”

“Oh Colin” said Laura sympathetically.

“This job means the world to me Laura,” said the pool manager, wiping the edge of his sleeve across his nose.

“Look, go up and wait in the canteen Colin, I’ll sort it!”

Watching the man leave, Laura ran a hand through her hair in exasperation.

“How many more people is he going to upset today Carole?!”

The receptionist merely shrugged sadly.

At that moment, Helen came through the door with a smug smile on her face.

“Look what I’ve got!” she said, waving the cheque book in front of them.

“You managed to convince him then?”

“No Laura but I found his blazer on one of the chairs near the back of the gymnasium. Took me two seconds to swipe it!”

“You mean you stole it, Helen?” said Carole anxiously.

 

“Well, it’s technically my money as well,” said Helen, adopting a facial expression that suggested she knew that was a weak statement.

All of a sudden they heard “Helen Britaaaaaas!”

“Time to go! See you both later!”

She legged it out of the staff room door, followed closely by Laura and Carole. 

“Stall him!” she called out as she exited the main reception doors. 

A few minutes later, the disgruntled manager stormed through reception and out the doors himself.

“Umm Mr Brittas?” said Carole weakly, but it fell on deaf ears.

They heard the sound of a car starting up, causing Laura to surmise that he obviously hadn’t got there in time.

Sure enough he came back empty handed, looking primed and just about ready to explode.

“I’m going up to my office, and I don’t want to be disturbed by ANYONE, Carole!”

“Very good Mr Brittas,” she replied.

“Right that’s it!” said Laura, who by now had well and truly had enough of the man’s attitude.

“Where are you going Laura?”

“To get to the bottom of why he’s behaving like a bear with a sore head!”

“Do you think that’s such a good idea?” replied the receptionist, taking a tuna sandwich off the remaining silver tray.

Laura turned to face Carole and said firmly.

“Someone’s got to, Carole.”

 

She had expected to meet him in the corridor, but his long legs and foul temper had got him to his office quicker than she had anticipated.

 

She was so annoyed with him she didn’t even knock on his door, choosing instead to walk straight in. 

She saw him turn to her with a face like thunder but, just as it had done earlier, her presence seemed to soften his temper considerably.

“Laura, I’m very busy at the moment,” he said, sounding tired and fed up.

He didn't appear to be actually doing anything though, when she had entered the room, it had appeared to her more like he was just staring into space.

“Not too busy to go and sort out the mess you’ve made with your staff members!” she shouted.

“What?” he said, screwing his face up in confusion.

“I’m talking about Gavin, Tim, Colin and Carole. You treated them very unfairly this afternoon!”

“No I didn’t!”

He looked puzzled, as if she had just asked him for the answer to a tricky maths problem.

“Yes you did,” she said firmly.  
“Especially to Carole, and she’s emotionally vulnerable right now!”

“Why is she emotionally vulnerable?”  
His face still retained its baffled expression.

“Because she’s...” Laura stopped herself just in time.

The last thing Carole wanted was for her employer to find out she was pregnant.  
She was convinced that she would be sacked. The receptionist had got herself knocked up at Julie’s New Years eve party, and was convinced that her manager wouldn’t approve of it.  
Besides, she already had one child occupying a space behind the reception desk, she really didn’t think she would be able to get away with two.

The irony of the whole situation was that Helen had strong suspicions that Brittas himself was the father, following an accidental bunk up at the party.

But it wasn’t Laura’s place to tell him or Carole. Helen had at the time, told her in confidence, and so she had decided a while ago that she would give the subject a wide berth.

‘They’re your friends though Laura, don’t they deserve to know...?’

Guilt instantly flooded her mind, but she managed to shrug it off. There were other things that needed dealing with at the present moment.

“Because it’s her time of the month,” was the first thing that came to her.

He nodded his head slowly in comprehension, and then said defensively.

“I didn’t mean to upset her! I would never want to upset any of my staff!”

“You never do mean to upset people Mr Brittas, that’s your trouble! You need to bloody well think before you speak!” she snapped.

He stared at her for a long while, and she began to think she’d crossed a line, in terms of her status as deputy manager.

He wasn’t angry though. He just put his hands over his face and began rubbing his eyes.

 

The guilt was back in full force when she noticed how despondent he looked.

“Mr Brittas, is everything ok?” she asked, sitting down in the chair opposite him.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind at the moment Laura.”

She frowned, 

“But tonight’s all sorted now isn’t it? Vlad can still play the melody line surely?”

“It’s not just about tonight,” he said, taking a Digestive biscuit off the plate on his desk and then pushing the plate in her direction.

She helped herself to a Jammy Dodger, then said,

“Is this about Helen stealing the chequebook?”

“Believe me Laura, Helen’s the least of my problems right now,” he said, sitting down on the corner of his desk and turning to face the window.

She helped herself to two Custard Creams. It suddenly occurred to her that she had worked through her lunch break, and the Jammy Dodger had gone down in about two bites.

‘He’s probably going to count them when I leave, and then I’ll have to fill out a biscuit rationing form.’

She sniggered involuntary at this thought, but managed to disguise it as coughing.  
He clearly wasn’t happy, and laughing at him right now would have been nothing less than cruel.

“Are you alright?” he asked, turning round to look at her.

“Yes um...biscuit went down the wrong hole that’s all.”

“Oh Laura,” he said, turning back to face the window.  
“Why does life have to be so complicated?”

“Something’s really getting to you isn’t it?” she probed.

He turned to face her again, looking so sad that it made her heart ache temporarily. It was an emotion that she didn’t think she’d ever really seen on his face.  
He also seemed to be weighing up a great decision in his mind.

Finally, he said,

“It’s not important.”

He then put his hand on hers where it was resting on the desk and said,

“What would I do without you Laura?”

She smiled but said nothing.

They shared a moment of quiet, much like they had done in the staff room earlier.

“Well I suppose I need to go and smooth things over with my staff!” he said, breaking the silence.

“I mean it Laura,” he said just before he left,  
“I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

“What are friends for?” she said, and then realised it was the second time that day that she had used that expression.

 

Julie suddenly popped her head round the door.

“I see you’ve managed to tame the tyrant.”

“What do you...Julie were you listening through the door?!”

She shrugged,  
“There’s nowt else do.”

“Well why don’t you go downstairs and help get things ready for tonight?”

“With these nails? Are you kidding me?” 

She flashed Laura a perfect set of nail extensions.

“You know you’re the only one who can change his mood like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re the voice of reason, he always listens to you.”

“Well we just...”

“According to him Laura, you can’t do a thing wrong...” 

“We just...understand each other that’s all.”

“I don’t know Laura,” said the secretary knowingly.  
“I think you’ve got a strange power over him”

“We’re just friends Julie!” said Laura firmly.

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist, I was only teasing. You’d have to be completely out of your senses to see HIM in a romantic light!”

Heading down the stairs towards reception Laura reflected on what Julie had said.  
Did he really treat her differently to all the other members of staff? And if he did, was that such a bad thing? I mean they were friends after all, just like her and Helen were friends. 

True they had a sort of connection, they had similar interests and principles, but she knew that he would never look at another woman. He would be faithful to Helen until his death.

Nope, nothing more than friends.

And she wasn’t for one minute about to entertain the notion that there may actually be something a lot deeper than friendship going on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M

A little later Colin caught up with Laura in one of the upstairs corridors.  


“Ah Laura, I just wanted to say thank you for getting my job back for me!”

“You’ve spoken to Mr Brittas then?”

“I have indeed Laura, and he was so polite and apologetic. I always knew he was a good man, deep down. But you’ve definitely got some kind of power over him Laura,” said Colin, near enough skipping off down the corridor, leaving a trail of ‘Colin Stench’ in his wake.

Watching him leave, Laura considered what he had said.

‘He used the same phrase as Julie.’

 

‘Maybe I really have had a powerful effect on him,’ she thought to herself. 

This suspicion was confirmed when she came downstairs and saw her employer engaged in a hug with a highly emotional Carole.

He currently had his back to her, and so she could clearly see the anguish on the receptionist’s face.

“Oh Mr Brittas I’m so sorry!” she was sobbing, “I didn’t mean to be so unhelpful about the piano!”

“It’s alright Carole,” he said calmingly.

“And I’m so sorry for stealing two sandwiches from the trays, I was just so hungry!”

“It’s alright Carole, they’re only sandwiches!”

His shoulder was rapidly becoming drenched from the poor woman’s tears.

The hug went on for a few moments more, until he pulled back from her and said.

“Listen Carole, I want you to go home early.”

“But what have I done wrong Mr Brittas?! I already apologised about the...”

“You haven’t done anything wrong Carole, I’m sending you home because you’re not well, and you’ll want to be better for this evening won’t you?”

Over his shoulder Carole flashed Laura a terrified facial expression.

‘Not well, Mr Brittas?” she asked nervously.

“Your tummy ache,” he said, gently patting her stomach.

“Oh it was just a bit of indigestion Mr Brittas! It’s all better now!”

“Don’t lie to me Carole, I know exactly what’s going on here. And I must say that I’m quite annoyed that you haven’t come to talk to me about it.”

Now Carole was panicking like mad, her eyes were wide, and her bottom lip had begun to tremble.

Laura, thankfully managing to catch the woman’s eye, mouthed the word ‘period’ as clearly as she could manage.

“Oh,” replied the secretary, clearly relieved.  
“Um yes Mr Brittas, that’s exactly it!”

 

‘What is she going to do when she gives birth?’ thought Laura.  
‘An actual baby is going to be a hell of a lot more difficult to explain away.’

 

“You know it’s really nothing to be embarrassed about Carole,” Brittas was saying.

Laura smirked at that.

“Yes Mr Brittas, I mean...No Mr Brittas...I mean...”

“Now before you go Carole,” he said, interrupting her,  
“I want you to go up to the canteen and get yourself a big slice of that chocolate fudge cake that Marie got in this morning.”

“But Mr Brittas I...”

“And you tell her that I’ll square it up with her later ok?”

Carole beamed.

“Thank you Mr Brittas,” she said sincerely, patting his hand.

As she was heading up the stairs though, their employer said

“Oh and Carole?”

The receptionist turned round with a grimace, expecting a criticism or some other abrasive remark.

Laura too held her breath.

But to both women’s surprise he said, 

“May I suggest a nice warm bath when you get home?”

“Thank you Mr Brittas,” she said again, looking more than a little surprised at his hospitable behaviour, and then continued up the stairs.

‘There’s the good man Colin was referring to,’ thought Laura as she watched Carole leave.

‘So he is in there somewhere.’

“That was very kind of you,” she said, approaching him.

“I don’t know Laura,” he said, wrinkling his nose up in his characteristic fashion, and fruitlessly attempting to dry his wet shoulder with a tissue. 

“That cake won’t help her diet in the slightest. She’s not setting a terribly good example to the other members of staff, or indeed the public. I think I’ll have to reaffirm her healthy eating plan when she’s feeling better.

“Good idea Mr Brittas,” replied Laura grinning.

‘Well...almost a good man...’

 

It was about five o clock when Laura found Helen crying her eyes out in the downstairs ladies toilets.

“Helen what is it?”

“It’s Gordon,” she sniffed,  
“He didn’t say anything about my dress!”

“What?” cried Laura in disbelief.

“I don’t understand!  
I worked to so hard to look good and he just couldn’t care less.”

“Well he was pretty cross with you about the chequebook.”

“Yes but he wasn’t even angry with me this time! I would have loved him to have stormed in and kissed me up against the wall in a passionate rage. But that’s never going to happen is it? Gordon wouldn’t know passion if it came up and bit him on the arse!”

“He must have said something Helen?”

“He came in to collect the wine boxes, and I asked him what he thought of my dress.  
He looked straight at me and said,  
“Fine, my darling,” she said, imitating her husbands voice.

“Then he just left.”

Fresh tears began to spill down the woman’s cheeks

“Oh Helen come here,” said Laura sympathetically, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
Feeling the woman trembling against her, all the grievances she had had about her manager’s wife from earlier in the day just melted away. 

Helen was heartbroken, and desperately needed a friend right now.

It was totally unacceptable of him to have ignored her in such a callous manner, and she would tell him so the next time she saw him. 

But she had to fix her best friend first.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have meant to upset you Helen, he was probably just in the middle of doing something. Why don’t you go and show him again?”

“There’s no point,” said the woman, fishing a tissue out of her purse and blowing her nose with it.  
“He’s just not interested in me anymore.

I really hate my life sometimes Laura...”  
She wrenched open a bottle of pills from her handbag and downed three of them, with the aid of a can of Red Bull which was sat on the sink.

“What are those?” enquired Laura.

“It’s Prozac, for my depression.”

“Are you sure you’re supposed to take three at once?”

“I need them Laura, especially today.  
I’m not sure whether to stay or go home if I’m honest.  
Perhaps I’ll go and grab a glass of that Chardonnay I saw.”

Laura tried to stop her friend leaving,

“Helen wait!”

But the woman had gone, leaving Laura more than a little concerned about her welfare.

She really didn’t think that energy drinks, Prozac, and alcohol were a terribly healthy combination.

‘She’s going to make herself ill,’ she said to herself.

It was a little past six when Laura changed into her blouse and skirt. 

‘Yep, still plain,’ she thought, looking in the staff room mirror. But it didn’t matter much, there was no one here that she particularly wanted, or needed to impress. There was a lot less pressure on her than there was on Helen.  
Sighing, she pulled a lipstick out of her clutch bag. It was a pretty shade of red, and she hoped it would enhance her outfit. After combing her hair and applying some hairspray, she was feeling a little more confident about her appearance.

 

The door opened and she turned to face the intruder. It was Brittas, eyes down, completely consumed in a list he was studying.

“You not changed yet?” she enquired.

“Just about to Laura, just about to,” he said, absent-mindedly, still engrossed in his list. 

Laura began to apply some blusher.

“You know, you’ve really upset Helen.”

She didn’t get an answer, which baffled her. The infamous Gordon Brittas was never lost for words.

Until now it seemed.

She turned to face him and was completely taken aback by what she saw.

He was staring very keenly at her, with a look that was almost feral, pupils so dilated that there was barely any iris surrounding them

“Mr Brittas?” she asked quietly, a little afraid at the intensity reflected upon his features.  
He looked almost like a predatory animal that was just about to pounce.  
And pouncing is exactly what he did.

Before she knew it there were arms around her middle, and a very enthusiastic set of lips locked onto hers. 

She heard the clatter of her blusher pot and brush hitting the floor, and was instantly ambushed by the taste of Earl Grey, and the scent of his cologne, which flooded her nostrils.

It was quite possibly the most passionate kiss that Laura had ever experienced in her life. He seemed to be desperate to claim her, to consume her, his mouth sealed against hers as if she were somehow providing him with much needed oxygen. 

Amid all the fervour though, one thing flashed up in her mind, almost like someone had just powered up a neon sign in her brain.

‘It’s me...I’m the reason he’s lost interest in Helen.’ 

She hadn’t intended to respond to the kiss, she had never had any interest in him in a sexual way.  
For some unknown reason however, her tongue swiped experimentally across his lips. Maybe it was curiosity? Or maybe his enthusiasm was just infectious?

That move of hers lit a fire under his already impassioned frenzy, for the arms around her waist tightened and his lips then moved from her mouth, down to her neck.  
He had pushed her up so far against the wall that every inch of his body was now tightly pressed up against hers. 

He began to dot eager, heated kisses all over her neck and collarbone.

She wanted to tell him to stop, she needed to tell him to stop...but she just couldn’t.  
Instead, she raised her chin, a silent invitation for him to continue.

Because as disturbed and messed up and wrong as it was, 

It felt so damn good.

He appeared to have had his fill of her neck and had returned to her mouth again, kissing a lot softer and slower this time though, the raging fire had cooled a little it seemed. She was nearly swept away by the sensations, but rational thought began beating in her brain like a hammer.

‘This is your best friend’s husband Laura.’

And besides which, there were two doors into this staff room, and neither of them were locked. People would be flocking in to change for the piano recital at any given moment.

But even more concerning was the fact that she felt she was mere seconds away from unzipping his flies, lifting up her skirt and...

‘I need to stop this, I need to stop this now!’ she thought.

She pushed at his shoulders in an attempt to get him off her, but he was stronger, and currently very determined.

So she began to slap him repeatedly on the shoulders, and this seemed to be enough to break whatever spell he had fallen victim to. He backed off from her, looking as if he had just awoken from a very vivid dream.

His pupils were still fully dilated, but the feral look was now gone, having been replaced with one of complete shock. Almost as if she had been the one that had instigated the kiss, instead of him.

 

“Oh my god what have I done?” he said,  
“What have I done? Oh god what have I done?”

He began frantically pacing the small area of the staff room, running his hand through his hair.

She tried to say something, but discovered that she had temporarily lost the power of speech.

Gordon Brittas left the staff room with the same speed that he had been pacing the floor, repeating his prior statement over and over, almost like a mantra.

Leaving her alone with a thousand different thoughts and emotions shooting through her brain.

‘I’ve just been frenched to death by ‘The man who wouldn’t know passion if it came up and bit him on the arse...’ she thought as she bent down to pick up the cosmetic items she had dropped. The blusher compact had cracked, and most of the powder had spilled out onto the floor. This was, however, the least of her problems right now.

She had never seen him like that before, it was almost as if something inside his brain had snapped the minute he had seen her in her outfit.

She felt guilty and ashamed.

Why had she enjoyed it? She shouldn’t have done. This was a man that she’d never viewed on any kind of romantic spectrum, not once.  
So why had his kiss affected her so much?

And what on earth had his impulsive behaviour been about? Was he drunk? She hadn't seen him take a drink all day, and she certainly hadn’t tasted it on his breath. 

‘What about your impulsive thoughts Laura? You were seconds away from begging him to ‘do you’ over the staff room table weren’t you?’

She was frightened, truly frightened at the fact that his passionate onslaught had stirred up such a fierce desire inside of her.

Now she had no idea how she felt about him. In fact, she had now idea how she felt about anything at this precise moment.

Gordon Brittas had done what Gordon Brittas did best.

Messed everything up.

She wanted time to straighten her brain out. She wanted time to sort things, and make sense of things. Unfortunately she didn’t get that time as, at that moment, Helen came in through the door.

Laura’s body tensed up considerably. This was the last person she wanted to be seeing at this moment in time.

 

The woman looked dreadful. There were streaks of mascara running down her face, and she appeared to have spilt something on her dress. Laura surmised that it was from the glass of red wine, which was currently being waved about due to the woman’s drunken, drug addled state.

“How do I look Laura?” she asked in a drunken haze.

“Helen, don’t you think you should go home?”

“What? And miss this fabulous party? Why on earth should I want to do that Laura?” she replied, sitting down at the table with a dramatic flourish.

She studied Laura’s face.

“Ah well, at least one of us is gonna get laid tonight eh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who’ve you been kissing? Your lipsticks all over your face Laura! Might wanna clean it up, it’s not looking terribly fetching.”

‘Shit’  
thought Laura, who turned to face the mirror and began wiping frantically at her lipstick with the back of her hand.

“Oh come here,” said Helen, who pulled a bag of make up wipes out of her handbag on the bench.

“Turn round.”

Laura did as asked, and Helen began vigorously wiping the lipstick off, hurting the younger woman a little in the process. She reeked of alcohol, and seemed to be having great difficulty standing upright.

 

And then the question came. 

The question that Laura would later recall as the one that started one of the most frightening experiences of her life.

“Why do you smell of my husband’s cologne, Laura?...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for violence.

‘His bloody cologne!’ she thought,  
‘He’s got it all over me and now...’

“Helen...” she began.

But even in her drunken and drugged state, it didn’t take Helen long to connect the dots.

She scowled at Laura with a menacing expression that was bordering on predatory.  
It was the same predatory look that her husband had sported not more than ten minutes earlier.  
It was more than clear that the outcome wouldn’t be a kiss this time though.

“Helen listen...”

“You cow,” said the other woman in a cool, calm voice. The manner in which she had uttered the insult couldn’t have been more different to the furious look upon her face.  
Then, before Laura could even think of anything else to say, a fist came out of nowhere and she was knocked to the ground, catching her head on the lockers as she went down. 

As her nose began to pour with blood, and quite possibly the worst pain of her life hit her, she knew she had to get out of that staff room, as quick as was humanly possible.

 

The other woman had momentarily backed off to cradle her [no doubt throbbing] hand, which gave Laura enough time to scramble out the door on her hands and knees. She prayed to god that someone would be in the reception area, someone that could help...even Colin would have done at this very moment. 

But to her complete dismay, the room was empty.

“Oh no you don’t!” came the enraged voice from behind her. 

And then the woman was upon her, flipping her over onto her back and clambering on top of the deputy manager, trapping every single part of her body.

Laura made an attempt to push the other woman off, but Helen had her wrists pinned to the floor and, despite her seemingly delicate stature, the older woman had incredible upper body strength.

“Helen please,” she heard a far away voice say, it took her a while to register that it was hers.

“How long has it been going on for Laura?” Helen demanded.  
“How long?”

“Nothing’s going on Helen!” she said.  
She was forced to start spitting out the blood that had run down from her nose and into her mouth.  
Her outfit was well and truly ruined.

She pushed feebly at Helen, but the woman wasn’t letting up.

Suddenly she heard footsteps and the relief hit her instantly.

It was Linda

“Oh my god what’s going on?!” she said.

“Get her off me Linda!” shrieked Laura angrily.

Linda instantly moved to get Helen off, but the woman slapped her hard across the face with the back of her hand, causing the other woman to leap back and cover her jaw with her hand.

“Linda, please,” said Laura, barely above a whisper.

Linda paused, still rubbing the side of her face that was injured.  
It looked to Laura as if she were weighing up whether or not she was brave enough to go in for a second time.

It seemed she wasn’t.

“I’ll get help Laura,” she cried,  
“I’m gonna go and get help!”

“What’s this?” cried Helen, noticing Laura’s ring for the first time.  
“I suppose he bought you this did he?!”

“No Helen, it’s from my parents...I’ve had it for years,” she said weakly, trying hard to fight the waves of nausea that were now upon her, courtesy of the injury to her nose.

“This is why he’s been so reluctant to give me his chequebook isn’t it? Because he’s been spending all his money on YOU!”

On ‘YOU’ Helen pulled at Laura’s ring, and when it didn’t come off easily [her finger had swollen a little over the course of the day] she twisted it off in a highly aggressive manner, digging sharp fingernails into the younger woman’s poor finger in the process.

Laura heard the metallic chink as Helen threw it across the room.

Just as promised, Linda returned, with Colin and Mr Brittas Senior in tow.

“Oh my word Mrs Brittas, I really don’t think you want to be doing that!” said the Geordie.  
“I think it would be better if you two ladies sat down and had a chat about your disagreement.”

He moved in to rescue Laura, but Helen bit him on the arm.

“Owwww,” he cried, jumping back.

“Now come on Helen, this isn’t like you,” Laura heard Jim say.

He, like the other two, attempted to free Laura, but Helen bit him on the arm as well.

“Aaaah, Jesus,” he cried, backing off. 

Laura could see the red, angry teeth marks on his arm.

Helen had stopped slinging accusations at the deputy manager, and was now just sobbing in a pathetic manner..

Out of the corner of her eye, Laura could see Carole tentatively approaching her, wearing a rather stunning blue velvet gown that seemed to compliment her pregnant figure perfectly. 

“Stay back Carole!” she cried out.

The last thing she wanted was for Helen to strike out at a pregnant woman. Carole obediently stopped, but Laura could see by the look on her face how desperate she was to comfort the deputy manager.

“Someone needs to find Brittas, now!” shouted Julie, who had now joined the group.

“Okay Linda!” said Colin, jumping into an authoritative position.  
“You take downstairs and I’ll take upstairs!” 

Too afraid to approach her, the other staff members tried to reason with Helen, but it was to no avail.

Her sobbing had quietened down a bit now, but every time Laura made to try and push her off, she pinned her hands back down on the floor again.

The thought currently at the forefront of the younger woman’s mind was,  
‘What bloody good is Brittas going to be?! Unless he’s got a case of tranquilliser darts!’

Laura suspected that the manager would be just as afraid of Helen as everyone else was.  
But he was her only hope now.

Her head had now begun to ache from its collision with the lockers, and while her nose had now stopped bleeding, it was still hurting like hell, and now Helen had begun to dig her fingernails into Laura’s wrists.

“Please Helen,” begged Laura pitifully, through the pain.  
“I’m your best friend...”

For a moment, it seemed as if that appeal may have got through to the deranged woman. Laura saw her face soften, and a look of sorrow and confusion appeared on the woman’s face, but not for long. The brutal expression she had been wearing throughout the whole of the attack returned, and she began to dig her fingernails in even deeper.

 

It seemed an age before the two staff members returned. And her hopes sank when she saw that Brittas wasn’t with either of them.

“We can’t find him anywhere!” cried Linda.

“He’s definitely not in the centre!” said Colin.

‘He’s probably gone home,’ thought Laura,  
‘He’s buggered off home, and now his psycho wife is going to tear me limb from limb.’

“Try the car park!” cried Julie, and she saw Linda rush out the double doors at a rate of knots.

A couple of minutes later, that familiar accent came flooding through the reception doors.  
The accent that normally grated on her on a daily basis, was a great comfort to her now it seemed.

“Why are you lot just standing here?!”

“We can’t get near her Mr Brittas!” cried Linda defensively.  
“She’s biting and scratching!” 

And then he was there in clear view, white as a sheet, looking as if he were seconds away from vomiting as he took in the sight before him. His hair was bordering on Afro territory and so she assumed that, wherever he had been in the car park, he had been furiously running his hands through it.

“Oh my god...” he said.

Thankfully he didn’t hesitate, or do what some of the other staff members had done, and try to reason with his wife. 

He ran right up to her her and, by locking his arms around Helen’s, he managed to successfully wrench her off of the abused woman trapped underneath her. She attempted to bite his arm, but he was too quick for her.

As the woman was being pulled off her, Laura got her first chance at a retaliation. She slapped Helen hard across the face. 

“Bitch!!” she cried.

With her arms now trapped behind her back, Helen Brittas was in no position to retaliate.  
She did struggle against her captor though, flailing her arms about like a bird caught in a trap, 

As Helen was now out of the way, Carole and Colin both flocked to Laura’s side and began trying to fix her bloody nose. She barely recognised Colin in his dinner jacket with his slicked back hair.

“Helen Brittas what the bloody hell have you done?!” shouted Whitbury’s manager.

“Get off me Gordon! Get off me! She kissed you! She’s supposed to be my best friend and she kissed you!” cried Helen, still attempting to launch herself at Laura, despite her firm restraint.

Each time she made to lunge, the others in the room moved back a little, just incase she somehow managed to break free of her husbands imprisonment. 

“My god, she’s like a wild animal,” she heard a voice behind her say, she couldn’t be sure who it was though.

But they were exactly right.  
She didn’t recognise the woman that was supposed to be her friend.

“She didn’t kiss me Helen, I kissed her!” he shouted.

Laura could hear mixed responses moving round the room. She had by now managed to prop her upper body up by her elbows, and so had a much clearer view of what was going on around her.

There was always something dramatic going on at the Leisure Centre, but today things were especially tense, and Laura could tell that some members of staff were actually enjoying this spectacle unfold before their eyes.

Helen ceased her struggling and turned her neck round to look at him.

“You kissed her?”

“Yes,” he replied, looking her straight in the eye.

He didn’t look sorry or remorseful, or even guilty. The only emotion occupying his face right now was anger, plain and simple.

“How could you do this to me Gordon?” she said after a pause.

But Gordon Brittas was currently paying very little attention to his wife, the only interest he had was in restraining her. His eyes were all over Laura, and she could clearly see the heartbreak on his face.

Helen regarded her bitterly.

“So what is this Gordon?  
Are you trading me in for a younger model?  
Do I just not do it for you anymore?” she said, grinding herself against him in a lewd manner.

“For gods sake Helen! How much have you had to drink!”

“Come on Helen, let me take you back to mine,” Julie had stepped forward.

Before letting her go though, her husband said furiously into her ear.

“If you take even one step towards my Laura...”

‘MY Laura...did he really just say that?’ 

He must have done as Helen had heard it as well.

“Oh so she’s YOUR Laura now is she!?”

He let go of her and she moved to prop herself up on the reception desk, swaying and struggling to stand upright.

Then she began to cry, over the top and dramatic, in true ‘Helen style.’

“I just wanted to look good for you Gordon,” she gestured down at her outfit,  
“I did all this for you, I wanted to make you proud of me.  
I’ve been so troubled lately, I just need your love Gordon...I need to know that you still love me!”

Laura couldn’t believe the effect this had had on everyone, she could almost feel the group of staff swarming round the woman, wanting to comfort her and give her sympathy.  
Helen Brittas really did have great powers of manipulation.

Julie approached her and put her arm round the woman, while Linda patted her hand sympathetically. 

Laura, despite having been the clear victim in the fight, was ignored by the majority of the onlookers.  
Colin and Carole remained by her side though. 

The latter had done a good job at stopping the blood flow from her nose, while the former was applying some kind of topical cream to her swollen finger.

Helen was still sobbing her eyes out, milking every last drop of attention she was getting from everyone.

The group began muttering and whispering over the top of each other, Laura couldn't pick out exactly what they were saying though, as her head was beginning to swim again.

There was one person that Helen’s charms weren’t currently working on though.

Her husband.

“I am not interested in waterworks Helen Brittas!” he snapped, slamming his hand down so hard on the reception desk she was convinced it must have hurt.

Everyone in the room flinched, and immediately stopped their chattering

He grabbed Helen by the arm, and pulled her back towards him.

“Say sorry to Laura for what you have done!” he yelled at her. 

Helen shook her head vehemently.

“Say sorry!”

“No I will not!” 

He glared at her for a few moments more, almost as if he were giving her one more chance to apologise.  
But she didn’t.

And so he instead turned his attention to Julie and said, quite calmly.

“Get her out of my sight.”

The secretary put her arm around Helen’s shoulders.

“Come on, come on, I’ll take you back to mine.”

The crowd parted to allow the two women through.  
People were patting Helen on the shoulder as she passed by them, their facial expressions ones of pity.

 

With Helen now out of the way, Gordon Brittas turned his full attention to Laura.  
He was down on his knees in an instant, shoving Colin out of the way in his desire to get close to her.

But in amidst the shock, the pain, and the trauma, Laura had a moment of perfect clarity.

“Dont touch me,” she said bitterly.

“Laura I’m only trying to...”

“This is your fault,” she said to him, wide eyed and furious.

“What?!” he replied. 

“This is all your fault...

 

Can you help me up please?” she questioned Colin and Carole.

Obviously still not getting the message, her manager made to grab her arms in an effort to help her up.

“I asked Colin and Carole,” she said coldly.

The two staff members helped her to her feet.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely to them,  
“But I think I’d like to be alone now.”

They nodded and she began to walk off. As she was heading up the stairs though, she heard footsteps.

He was so close behind her, they were almost touching.

“Dont even think about following me,” she said. 

“Laura please,” he protested weakly, but stopped where he was on the staircase. She didn’t need to look back to know the expression on his face.  
She could see in her minds eye the anguish and the devastation, and this satisfied her immensely. She wanted him to hurt.

She ended up in the toilets by the squash courts. After bracing herself against the sink in an effort to combat the dizzy spells that kept washing over her, she attempted to try and get things clear in her mind.  
Why the hell had Helen reacted in such a way? Why had she flown off the handle over a kiss to do with a man that, Laura knew deep down, she couldn’t really care less about.  
Perhaps it was simply a case of,  
‘I don’t want him, but I don’t want anyone else having him either.’

Or maybe it was an attention thing.  
Helen enjoyed being the centre of attention, and she certainly had been this evening. 

 

But while it was certainly true that Helen had been desperate for her husband’s attention tonight, Laura knew her friend wasn’t fussy. She would happily take attention from any man.

There was, of course, the lethal cocktail she’d been filling up on during the day, which was probably the strongest explanation for her out of control behaviour.

She had transformed into a monster. A glamorous and beautiful one, but a monster all the same.

And then there was the kiss itself, the kiss that she had secretly enjoyed.  
Had Michael ever kissed her in such a way? She couldn’t recall.

But as enjoyable as the kiss had been, its repercussions had been deadly.  
And it had all been caused by him. He had initiated the kiss, ergo, he had caused his fruit loop of a wife to attack her. 

He must have known how she would react if she found out.

She seriously hoped she wouldn’t be forced to set eyes on him anytime soon, as she was afraid that she might actually kill him.

A large blunt object to smack him round the head with would do... and a kick in the testicles probably wouldn’t go amiss either.

Just then the door opened causing her to jump out of her skin. She didn’t want to admit to herself that Helen’s attack had really frightened her, but deep down she was genuinely terrified that the woman would turn up for round two.

It was only Colin however.

“It’s ok Laura, it’s just me,” he said when he saw how jumpy she was.  
“I’ve found one of your earrings.”

“Oh,” she said, instantly touching her ear.  
“I didn’t even know I’d lost it.”

Thank you Colin,” she said genuinely.  
“Did you find my ring?”

“I’m sorry, I looked everywhere for it,” he shot her one of his sad, puppy dog looks. It was the look that was normally reserved for when he got in trouble with the manager.

She struggled to fight back the tears.

“I expect Helen picked it up on her way out and threw it down a drain or something,” she said bitterly.

He obviously couldn’t think of a response to that, as he changed the subject.

“I must say that it came as a bit of shock to me Laura,” he said  
“But if you and Mr Brittas make each other happy, well that’s ok with me.”

“We’re not in a bloody relationship Colin,” she said, glaring fiercely at him.

“Ok, well, I’ll be leaving then,” he opened the door, but then turned back round.

“Oh and another thing Laura?.”

“Colin, as I said back in reception, I would really like to be alone right now.

“I know that Laura, it’s just...Can I let Mr Brittas know you’re in here? He’s very worried about you.”

“Colin!  
Which part of ‘I want to be alone,’ do you not understand?!”

“Ok Laura,” he said, saluting her as he exited.

But she knew Colin better than that. She knew her manager would get the info about her whereabouts from his faithful lapdog The deputy wet had zero to no willpower and Brittas, she knew, would grind him down.

Feeling more upset and confused than she had ever felt in her entire life, Laura Lancing left the toilets.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated somewhere between M and Explicit
> 
> [I’m not really sure tbh]

She ended up in the canteen kitchen of all places. There was something strangely calming about the gloom, and the soft humming of the refrigerator. She could see in the shiny reflection of said appliance how awful her nose looked. It was still throbbing badly.  
She was seriously considering reporting Helen. It had been a brutal attack after all, and if she was capable of that, what else could she possibly be capable of?  
Exactly how far would she have gone, had Brittas not intervened?  
And the speed with which the woman had gone from psychotically angry to pitifully upset, had been truly been remarkable.  
How could the trembling, crying woman propping herself up on the reception desk, ever have been capable of such a vicious attack? And what of him? He had referred to her as HIS Laura, and strangely that didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would... Because as irritated as she was with him, it had made her feel special, in a very weird kind of way. 

‘What the hell do I do now?’ she thought.

‘You need to go home Laura’

Yes, going home sounded like the perfect idea right now. Perhaps after a nights sleep, she would be able to see things more clearly.

‘Can I cope with going home to an empty house though?’

Perhaps she could call Michael and invite him round for some company.

‘My god you’re in a bad way Laura,’ she thought as she headed out of the kitchen.

On her way out, however, she bumped into the cause of the evening’s calamities. His tie was now gone and the top button of his shirt was undone. His hair was a little tidier than it had been. Most of the colour had returned to his face, but he still looked anxious. He was carrying a first aid kit.

“Leave me alone Mr Brittas,” she said, pushing past him, but he grabbed her arm.

“Laura please, I just need to know that you’re ok.’

She didn’t reply.

“Are you alright?” he said, grasping her upper arms and frantically looking her over.

“After what your psychotic wife has done to me? No I’m not Mr Brittas!”

“Laura look...” he began to say, but a worried frown took up residence on his face.

“Your nose is bleeding again Laura.”

She put the tip of her finger to the base of her nose and could indeed feel wetness there.  
When she brought her finger away, it was covered in blood.

“Sit up on the counter, I’ll sort it out,” he said, opening up the first aid box.

“I don’t need your help,” she said firmly. 

She didn’t put up much of a fight though. She knew it needed looking at, and she highly doubted that she would be able to do it herself. 

It was either him, or a trip to Casualty.  
And she could be waiting there for hours.

She jumped up on the counter thinking, 

‘I’ll just let him fix my nose, and then I’ll leave.’

He pulled a disinfectant wipe out of the first aid box, and began to gently wipe the blood from the base of her nose and her top lip, where it had trickled down to.  
It was, she realised, reminiscent of Helen wiping the lipstick off her lips in the staffroom before the fracas of the evening had begun.  
With the exception that he wasn’t steaming drunk, and swaying from side to side.  
He also wasn’t hurting her either.

But his close proximity was a little unnerving and was, for some reason, giving her butterflies in her stomach.

“Laura, I don’t know what came over me in that staff room, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” she said.

Her tone of voice, however, suggested that it was anything but fine.

She supposed, however, that her subtle nuance had gone over the top of his head.

“Hold this on your nose for me,” he said, handing her a thick wad of cotton.

While she was attempting to stem the bleeding, he produced a packet of painkillers from the box, and poured her a glass of water from the tap.

“You owe me a new blusher,” she said, a slightly nasal quality to her voice, where the cotton wool was pressed on her nose.

“I can get you a new blusher Laura,” he said, in a manner that suggested he couldn’t give two hoots about an item of make up right now.

“You knocked it on the floor during your little ‘Neanderthal phase.”

He didn’t reply, but his shame was written all over his face, clear as day.

“And I need a new blouse and skirt as well.”

He glanced down and noticed the blood.

“And a new blouse and skirt,” he confirmed, sounding as if he cared a lot more about replacing that.

“Let me see your nose,” he said

She pulled the wad away, and was happy to see that the blood flow had dried up.

He raised her chin up, in order to get a better look at her injury, scrunching his nose up the way he often did when concentrating on something.

“There’s a nasty cut just inside,” he reported,  
“I think that’s where all the bleeding is coming from.”

“She caught me with her engagement ring.”

He shook his head from slowly from side to side, and she could see that he was still having problems coming to terms with what his wife had done to her.

He passed her the pills and a glass of water.

“These might make you sleepy.”

She obediently swallowed the tablets, choking a little on one of them. They were the round kind, that didn’t lend themselves to easy swallowing.

“Alright?” he said, and she nodded.

“What are you going to do with those?” she questioned him gingerly, when she saw him take some steri-strips out of the box.

“I need to patch up the cut inside your nose.  
Look Laura, I’ll be as gentle as I can be, but this is going to hurt a lot.”

“Great,” she said sarcastically.

With the aid of a pair of tweezers, he began to carefully apply the strips to the inside of her nose.

The pain was indeed unbearable. She kept trying to pull her head away from him, and he kept pulling it back, almost as if they were doing some strange little dance.

Eventually though, with eyes streaming and a pain factor reaching the hundreds, she shoved him back.

“You’re hurting me!” she yelled.

“I told you it would it hurt,” he said sympathetically.

“You told me it would hurt! You didn’t tell me it would be absolute bloody agony!”

“I’m almost finished Laura, and I’m sure the painkillers will kick in soon.”

Highly reluctantly she let him continue, screwing her eyes up, and gripping onto the edges of the counter for the particularly painful bits.

“All done,” he said when he’d finished.  
“How’s it feeling?”

“Ten times worse than it was before.”

“It will feel better soon,” 

She huffed, and there was silence in the room for a moment or so, as he packed everything back into the first aid kit.

She glanced down at her ringless finger, which was thankfully a little less swollen now than it had been.

“You know she’s thrown away my ring don’t you? The one from my parents? The one that meant everything to me?!”  
She didn’t like the hysteria she could feel creeping into her voice.

“No she hasn’t,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket and then opening up his palm to show the piece of jewellery that she treasured so much.

“You found it?”

“It had rolled under the vending machine, it took me ages to find it.”

“You actually went looking for it?” she asked in a voice laden with disbelief.

He nodded,  
“Colin told me you’d lost it.”

With a little fairy liquid, and some gentle manipulation, he managed to slip it back onto her finger where it belonged.

She gave him a genuine smile and said,

“Thank you.”

He smiled back at her, and she felt the majority of the rage she had been feeling towards him begin to melt away. In fact, at that particular moment, she felt she could have hugged him.

But she never got a chance, for he had spotted the angry crescent moon shaped imprints on her wrists.

“Did she do this with her fingernails?!” he asked, running his fingers over the marks.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Oh what’s she done to you, my Laura?” he said quietly, but she could tell that the question had been a rhetorical one.

He was having just as much of a hard time as she was, trying to come to terms with what the woman had done.

But there it was again. MY Laura. She didn’t even think he’d realised he’d said it this time round. 

Her left wrist was worse, somehow Helen had managed to deliver a nasty scratch that was bleeding a little.

He once again returned to the first aid kit, and began to clean the wound, much in the way that he had cleaned up her nose for her

The pain was nowhere near as bad, but the really strange thing was that she actually wanted it to be.

His delicate fingers on her skin were making things feel a bit funny in her head.

“You know,” he said,  
“Helen’s not well at the moment.”

‘My heart bleeds,” she said bitterly, grateful that she had something to be angry about again.  
Feelings of sexual desire were beginning to creep up on her, and anger was the perfect distraction.

“I needed you,” she said, staring him straight in the eye.  
“I needed you, and you were out there hiding in your car, like a little boy.”

He had finished cleaning the cut, and was now applying some cream of some sort. She assumed it was anti-bacterial or something similar.

“I needed some time to think Laura.”

“YOU needed time to think?”

He blinked softly at her, and looked at the floor momentarily. It was a gesture that clearly indicated to her his complete understanding of how selfish he’d been.

“I should have been keeping a closer eye on Helen today, I know that.”

“Did you know she was mixing booze and energy drinks with her meds?”

He shook his head slowly.

“My thoughts have been, elsewhere today.”

“Where is elsewhere?,” she asked, although it was a pointless question.  
She already knew the answer.

He gave her a sage look, a final confirmation.  
He had moved up close to her again, in order to tend to her injury, and without the agonising pain in her nose distracting her this time, she began to feel those strange feelings again. She could feel his soft breathing on her neck, and smell [once again] the intoxicating scent of his cologne.  
As his gentle fingers smoothed out the plaster on her wrist, she suddenly found herself drawn to the part of his chest that was exposed, courtesy of the undone button. The skin under there looked so smooth, so inviting. A patch of skin that was almost begging to be kissed.

She reached out and touched it, stroking it softly with her fingers.

“What are you doing Laura?” he asked in a bewildered tone, catching her hand in his.

“I’m not sure,” she replied uncertainly.

She then leant forward and placed a light kiss to the exposed bit of chest in front of her.

He clearly had no qualms about this level of physical contact, for she instantly felt his fingers in her hair, and knew that he was being carried along on the same wave of desire that she was.

She began to work her way down his chest, undoing his buttons one by one, and kissing each exposed bit of skin. She had almost got down to his stomach, when his fingers accidentally found the bruise on her head.

“Ow!” 

“Sorry!”

The pain was just enough to startle her out of her trance, and she pulled back from him.

He tenderly stroked her neck, and said in a voice that very nearly made her knees buckle underneath her.

“You look so beautiful tonight Laura,” 

She took a deep breath and tried to regain some sort of sanity, or at the very least, regain some control over her trembling limbs.

“Laura, you’re shaking,” 

He grasped her hands in his, in an attempt to calm the intense tremor.

“I’m afraid,” she replied softly.

“Afraid of what?”

“Of the way you make me feel.”

Had she really been harbouring feelings for him all this time? Had she just been burying them under a mountain of denial? No, she would have known if she had...unless it had been subconsciously? Could you be attracted to someone on a subconscious level?

She walked over to the other side of the room.

“You’re like a dog on heat Mr Brittas, it’s not a terribly attractive quality.”

“Laura, you just kissed ME!” he said, gesturing down at his chest.

“I don’t fancy you,” she said firmly, as much to herself as it was to him.

“Well what you’ve just done seems to suggest otherwise!”

Watching him do his shirt up, her eyes wandered down to the lower half of his body. There was currently nothing to see there, but Laura had always had a very powerful imagination.  
The inappropriate feelings began sprouting up in her mind again.  
The memory of his soft, warm mouth on her neck.  
How she had craved more of that mouth, how she had wanted it to kiss her everywhere. Her thoughts shot straight down the erotic alley that they had done before, causing her brain to begin running on autopilot. She found herself wondering what he would look like naked.

‘I wonder how big his...’

She closed her eyes and tried to force the feelings away, desperately trying anything she could to stop seeing him in a sexual light.

It was time for a defence mechanism.

“You seriously believe that I have feelings for you? How deluded are you? Have you looked in the mirror lately?! You’re not exactly god’s gift to women Mr Gordon Brittas! What with your craggy, ferret like face, and your supersized nostrils! Not to mention that disgusting warty thing on your jaw that could give Colin’s acne a run for it’s money! And then there’s your personality! You’re ignorant, obstinate, you never listen! You always think you know what’s best for people don’t you? But you get it wrong every single bloody time!

And then there’s that irritating voice! You know, we all take turns doing impressions of you in the staff room, in fact we’ll gladly take any opportunity to rip the shit out of you whenever and wherever we can!

Because you’re a useless, jumped up, arrogant prick of a man, whose wife hates him and whose staff think he’s a complete and utter joke!”

Only once the last few words were out of her mouth did the realisation hit her.  
She’d somehow ended being a lot nastier than she had intended to be.

‘I think that’s your job down the toilet, Laura,’ she thought to herself.

“Have you finished?” he said patiently, in the way that someone might respond when they’re waiting for someone to finish reading out a list. 

“Well...er yes,” she said, still a little stunned by her aggressive tirade.

“Well I’m glad you’ve got that off your chest.” 

“Mr Brittas look...”

“I’m talking now Laura!” he said sternly,  
“That’s if you can stand to listen to my irritating voice!”

She went to say something else, but the look on his face hushed her into silence.

“Look, I know I did something stupid tonight, but I am trying my utmost to put it right! If you’d give me the bloody chance to! And if you hate me as much as you say you do, what was that whole chest kissing thing about?!”

He suddenly got right up close to her, much as he had done in the staff room, placing his hands on the wall either side of her. 

‘You really should be feeling scared Laura,’ she thought to herself,  
‘Unnerved at the very least.’

But she wasn't. The only feeling flowing through her veins right now was sexual desire,  
raw and needy.

“You’re a married man Mr Brittas,” she gasped.

“You think I don’t know that! You think I’m perfectly ok with the feelings I have for you? Because believe me Laura I’m not. You think I like the fact that you’re the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing I think of at night!?”

While not actually shouting at her, his tone was still an angry one.

“Do you think I don’t feel wracked with guilt when I cuddle up to my wife at nighttime and pretend I’m lying in bed with you? And you now seem to feel it appropriate to be sending me mixed signals! How is that fair Laura?!”

She attempted to say something back to him, but her mouth had gone dry.

“You drive me mad,” he said, literally nose to nose with her.

“I don’t fancy you,” she said again, barely a whisper.

“I don’t believe you,” he said firmly, his eyes blazing with either passion or fury, she couldn’t tell which.  
Perhaps it was a combination of both.

A daydream began to play out in her messed up little head.  
Him lifting her up onto the counter, and them doing the deed right there and then.  
Brutal and animalistic. His hands tightly gripping her hips, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.  
It would probably turn out to be the best sex of her life, and just like in the staff room, she felt seconds away from doing it.

She felt her hand going for his zipper, almost as if it had a mind of its own, but he caught it, and spoke in a warning voice,

“Don’t tease me Laura.”

She pulled her hand away, embarrassment and confusion fighting a battle in her mind.  
She was behaving like some wanton sex fiend, and she didn’t like it one bit. She had gone from not feeling anything for the man, to hating him, to fancying the pants of him in less than an hour.  
His lust induced behaviour had awoken something inside her.  
Her own lust monster, which was currently taking up far too much space in her brain.  
She felt as if she were under the influence of a very strong aphrodisiac.

All at once the lights were too bright, the subtle hum of the dishwasher too loud and jarring, and his presence far too suffocating.

She ducked underneath his arm, and shot out of the kitchen.

“Come back Laura, we need to sort this out.”  
The reprimand was clear in his voice.

“We’re not at work now Mr Brittas, so don’t go using your  
‘Authoritarian tone’ with me!”

She walked through the corridor and down the stairs to reception, fumbling for her keys in her clutch bag as she went.

She made it to her car, and then swore as she dropped her keys.

‘I’ve just got to make it home,’ she thought.  
‘It’s not a long drive...I can make it.’

But a voice from the double doors said,

“What are you doing, Laura?” 

Interestingly, the inflection in his voice wasn’t one of curiosity, but rather one of someone who knows that what the other person is doing is completely pointless.

“I’m going home, what does it look like?” She fumbled to get her key in the lock, but dropped it again, as her hands were shaking so much due to her heightened level of emotion.

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am!”

“Give me the keys Laura,” he said, patiently.

“Sod off!” she shouted back at him.

“Laura,” his voice was a lot firmer this time,  
“Give me the keys!”

“I said no! What are you, deaf?!”

“Right, that’s it!’ he said, in the way that a parent might talk to a disobedient child. 

She clocked him advancing on her.

“Don’t you dare!” she had time to say before he grabbed her round the waist and began to drag her, bodily, across the car park to his car.

“Let go of me,” she shrieked angrily, smacking at his hands in frustration.  
“I’m a grown woman Mr Brittas! I can make my own sodding decisions!”

“Get in the car,” he said, opening the passenger door.

“I’m not getting in your car.”

She went to move away but he had penned her in, placing one hand on the car door, and the other on the side of the vehicle.

“Get in the car Laura,” he repeated.

“Get out of my way!”

“I can stand here all night if I need to.”

She briefly contemplated attempting to make a run for it, but the sedative effect of the painkillers had started to set in, and she could feel her energy draining rapidly.  
She sat down in the passenger seat with a grunt.  
He got into the drivers seat, and was just in the process of fastening his seatbelt, when Laura delivered her second slap of the evening.

“Don’t you ever manhandle me like that again!” she said.

He didn’t react much to the slap, almost as if he had been expecting it. Instead, he started up the car and pulled away.

“So you’re not even going to say sorry,” she said,

“No Laura I’m not. I’m not going to apologise for stopping you driving home and killing yourself in the process!”

“I would have been fine!”

“You’re in no fit state to drive Laura, and you know it.”

She couldn’t think of a reply to that, but a couple of silent tears had begun to spill down her cheeks. The evening had turned into a complete hot mess that just seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly.

“Why do you think?!” she snapped,

There was an uncomfortable silence in the car for about five minutes or so. 

“You’ve missed my turning,” she said to him, when she noticed that he had gone sailing past her housing estate.

“That’s because I’m not taking you home.”

“Well where are you taking me then?” her voice began to slur.

“You’re coming back to mine where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Don’t want...dont want to go back to...”

After that everything went dark, as Laura drifted off into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M

As Laura came to, she was aware that she was lying somewhere soft and wam. There was a blanket over her, and she could smell something cooking.  
Something with a lot of garlic.

Her eyes opened, and she knew exactly where she was. Helen’s. No, not Helen’s, not right now at any rate. 

HIS house.

The man that, by his own admission, was more or less obsessed with her; on a sexual level at any rate.  
As her brain slowly resurfaced out of sleep mode, all the events from the evening came flooding back to her. 

A part of her brain hoped it had all been an insane dream.  
The rest of her mind knew full well that what had transpired had been a conscious experience.

‘You did some pretty crazy stuff in that canteen Laura, and the worst thing is, you don't even know why do you?’

 

She glanced around the living room, a room that was so familiar to her. 

The number of chats, face packs, and drinking sessions she had engaged in in this room brought on a heap of hurt. 

‘No more girly get togethers now Laura...’

She slowly moved to sit up, not sure that she had ever felt so tired in her entire life.  
She almost jumped when she looked up to find him standing in the doorway.

He’d changed into pyjamas and a dressing gown, and it took her a few minutes to get her head around this fact.  
Seeing the man you’d only ever really seen in a shirt and tie wearing a dressing gown, was a little bit of a culture shock.

She couldn’t deny the fact that he looked rather fetching in it though.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“A little better I think.” 

That was certainly true.  
The painkillers had finally succeeded in numbing the pain in her nose, and the relief from that was heavenly.

“Still a bit tired though.”

“Hungry?”

“Ravenous.” 

Her biscuit lunch seemed a distant memory now, and she hadn’t had a thing to eat at the party.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Ok,”she said, slowly attempting to get off the couch.

“Do you need help?”

“No I’m fine.”

There was suddenly a very bright flash of lightning, and she flinched noticeably.

“Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” he asked, and she instantly shot back,

“It’s not funny Mr Brittas!”

“I’m not laughing Laura.”  
She looked up at him and saw the deadpan expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...”

“My brother Horatio is,” he said, interrupting her.  
“When we were children, he used to come running into my room whenever there was a thunderstorm. He wouldn’t calm down until I agreed to let him sleep in my bed with me.”

He smiled weakly.

“Anyway, come on.”

Making her way into the kitchen, she seriously expected to find a ready meal, or a takeaway of some kind.

She did not expect to find two bowls generously filled with spaghetti bolagnese, a bowl of grated cheese, a large bowl of salad, and a plate of garlic bread.

She glanced around for confirmation that he had made the meal from scratch. There was a chopping board and a knife on the counter top, and the odds and ends of vegetables.

Wasting no time at all, she sat down on the nearest chair and tucked straight in.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want a spoon for the spaghetti,” he said, turning round to face her from his position at the cutlery drawer.

“Oh, you’ve started already.”

She finished chewing and wiped at her mouth with the napkin beside her plate.

“Sorry, that was very unladylike of me.”

“You really are hungry aren’t you?” he said, sitting down.

She nodded, but forced herself to slow down. The last thing she wanted was to wind up with a stomachache on top of everything else.

“So you’re trying to get me drunk now are you?” she said facetiously, when she noticed the sparkling liquid in the wine glasses.

“It’s Schloer,” he said, looking looking a little irritated.  
“You can check the bin if you don’t believe me.”

“Well, why did you put it in wine glasses?” 

“I don’t know Laura,” he said impatiently,  
“I suppose I thought it looked nice!”

He seemed unusually snappy, but she put it down to the fact that he was getting over the events of the evening, as was she.

It was clear that he, like her, also appeared to be trying to avoid the elephant in the room.

And maybe that was for the best. Maybe they could still salvage their friendship.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said after a bit.

He paused in the act of eating and frowned at her, causing her to think she’d somehow managed to piss him off again. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual tone.

“Who do you think does all the cooking round here, Laura?”

“Well I’d always assumed Helen...”

“Helen can barely boil an egg, Laura!”

“So you’re telling me you come home from work every day, and cook for her and the children?”

He gave her a look that suggested he wasn't in the mood to go down that avenue of conversation this evening.

“Do you enjoy cooking?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“When there’s someone to cook for,” he replied.  
“I never cook when it’s just me on my own.”

“Well what do you eat?”

“Whatever’s in the freezer really. Helen keeps it well stocked up with fish cakes, frozen pizza and the like.”

“Well I’m glad my presence here has encouraged you to eat properly.”

She was rewarded with a little smile.

“Where are the children?” she asked

She helped herself to two slices of garlic bread, but she didn't really want any salad. For some reason, her body was craving only two things.  
Meat and carbs.  
She put a little on her plate though, he’d gone to the effort of chopping it all up after all.

“They’re with Helen’s mother for the night,” he replied curtly.

A thought suddenly occurred to her,

“Where’s your father gone?”

He took a sip of his drink and said,

“Back to Colchester.”

“You made your father drive back to Essex in a storm like this?!”

“I can’t have him here right now Laura!” he shouted. 

Then in his normal voice,

“I’ve got other priorities.”

‘Looking after me,” she thought.

She nodded, feeling bad for Jim Brittas. He was such a lovely man, and she felt a ton of guilt that her being here had caused him to be turfed out on his ear.

‘You’re also the reason your manager’s children aren’t sleeping in their own beds tonight Laura.’

The man across from her [apparently not always as ignorant as everyone believed] must have noticed her discomfort.

“He’s going to phone me to let me know he got home safe.”

After a few minutes of silence she said,

“This is really good,” 

“It’s just what was in the fridge.”

She noticed that he wasn’t eating with much enthusiasm, and he hadn’t touched the garlic bread or the salad at all.

The doorbell rang and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Wait here,” he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin and getting up from the table.

She held her breath.

‘Please don’t let it be her, please god don't let it be her.’

‘Relax,’ she tried to tell herself.  
‘He won’t let her into the house, and as tough as the woman is, she’s no match for him.’

This thought only calmed her momentarily though, as a stream of irrational thoughts then began gatecrashing her mind.

‘What if she’s got a knife? Or a crowbar? What if she’s got a gun?  
Don’t be ridiculous Laura, where would she have got hold of a gun...’

“What do you want, Colin?”

‘Colin,’ she thought, 

‘Just Colin.’

“Do excuse me for the late interruption Mr Brittas, it’s just, I’ve brought Laura some flowers. I hope she’s feeling a bit better.”

“What makes you think Laura’s here?”

“Well, I’ve already tried her house and I didn’t get an answer. I just assumed she’d be here. Don’t worry Mr Brittas! I’m not judging you!”

“Laura isn’t well enough to be left on her own tonight Colin,” said the manager impatiently.  
“I’m just looking after her.”

“Of course Mr Brittas. The flowers are from Carole as well, please tell her that we’re both thinking of her.”

“Will do Colin, thank you!” he said, and Laura heard the front door close.

He reinterred the kitchen with a rather splendid looking bunch of flowers.

“From Colin and Carole,” he said simply, laying them down on the kitchen counter.

“Oh that’s so sweet,” she marvelled, admiring the beautiful mixture of red and yellow carnations.

“I wouldn’t get too excited,’ he said, sitting back down at the table.  
“He probably took them from someone’s grave.”

At this, she burst into mad, slightly hysterical laughter. 

But while his comment had been a humorous one, it certainly wasn't on the laugh out loud spectrum. 

‘I must just be letting out some of the stress of the evening,’ she thought.

It felt good to laugh.  
He looked like he wanted to join in with her, but some kind of feeling or emotion was preventing him from being able to.

“I don't think even Colin would stoop that low Mr Brittas,” she said, grinning.

This did manage to draw a slight smile out of him, and at that moment it almost felt like the terrible evening had never even taken place. They were in his office again, sharing a joke, taking the piss out of someone [usually Colin] as they often did. Back when they were friends.

Back when things weren’t complicated.

For the rest of the meal they found themselves mainly talking about work. It seemed fairly safe territory for the both of them, and she began to think his temper was softening. She jumped a few more times, this time at the thunder rather than the lightning. The light in the kitchen was so bright that the latter wasn’t really noticeable.

He had got up to clear the plates at the end of the meal, when another deafening crash came out of the sky  
She jumped, and very nearly dropped her glass of Schloer.

“It’s not normally this bad,” she said defensively.  
“I’m just a little on edge this evening.”

He didn't reply, instead she felt him move to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed them lightly, in an effort to comfort her she assumed.

And the strangest sensation came over her. A bizarre sensation of sexual tension and comfort, all rolled into one. And it felt really good. 

Another thunderclap occurred, which startled her out of her reverie.

She couldn't believe how considerate he was being about the thunderstorm though. All Michael had ever done was rip the piss out of her, which was why she had snapped at Brittas initially. She had been mocked about her phobia for most of her life.

“Right,” he said, as he finished loading up the dishwasher.  
“I think it’s best if you stay here tonight.”

Laura wasn't overly enamoured about the idea of spending the night. Things had got weird enough at the centre, how much weirder would they get now that they were both in the vicinity of a bed.

“I’m perfectly fine to go home Mr Brittas, eating has helped a great deal.”

“It’s not safe to be driving in this weather,” he said dismissively, wiping down the counter top. 

“I really don’t see a problem, the rain’s letting up a bit...”

“It’s not safe, alright Laura!” he said, turning his back on her to soak some pans in the sink.

That was a load of bull. Last winter he’d turned up to work by car in what was more or a less a snowstorm, and hadn’t been phased in the slightest.

‘He wants me to stay, but he doesn’t want to admit it...  
More to the point though, if he wants my company, why is he being so short tempered with me?’ 

She didn’t have the patience for it this evening.

“I really would like to go home Mr Bri...”

 

“Well I’m not taking you home,” he said firmly,  
“So you’ll have to get a bus or a taxi.”

‘Wow,’ she thought.

‘Mr irritable has now been upgraded to Mr Arsehole.’

She considered calling for a taxi, but she had to admit to herself that going home to an empty house in a storm such as this one didn’t exactly seem like a glowing prospect right now. 

Staying here though? In the realm of awkwardness? Was that really much better?

“Do you want a tea?” she heard him say.

“Well if you’re insisting on keeping me here against my will, then I’ll need something to drink won’t I?”

It was a juvenile comment, she knew that, she just wanted a reaction.

She didn't get one.

She watched him move to the sink to fill up the kettle, and said,

“Black, two...”  


“I know how you take your tea Laura,” he replied impatiently.

She almost snapped back at him, but managed to hold her tongue.  
She knew full well that if she started giving back as good as she was getting, they would more than likely end up having a blazing row, and that was the last thing she wanted right now.  
Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.

“You know I could have taken Helen,” she said,  
“If she hadn’t got that punch in first.”

“Sorry?” he said, with his back to her.

“She stunned me that’s all! I’m not weak Mr Brittas! I could have handled myself, I was just in a lot of pain.”

“I’m not judging you Laura,” he said, turning to face her.  
“Helen’s got a vicious streak.  
It’s not the first time she’s done something like this.”

“You mean this has happened before?”

“A few times, yes.”

“Well she needs help!”

“It’s not as simple as that Laura!” he said, raising his voice a little.

“I can’t find a doctor that will take her symptoms seriously. And then there’s the actual getting her to go in the first place. If I had a pound for every time her specialists have phoned me up and asked me why my wife has missed her scheduled appointment, I’d be a rich man.  
The worst thing is, she actually tells me that she’s gone, and then I find out she’s gone on a shopping spree or something. I can’t always go with her Laura, I haven’t got the time!”

She nodded silently, not really sure how to reply to that.

Eventually she said,

“Shall I go through?” 

“Please do,” he said, pouring out the drinks.

She made her way through to the sitting room and sat down on the couch.  
He joined her shortly, passing her a mug of tea, and setting a Victoria sponge cake and two small plates down on the coffee table in front of them.

“I didn’t make that,” he said pointing at it.  
“Marks and Spencer did.”

She wasn't entirely sure why he had felt he needed to point that fact out.

She helped herself to a slice of cake, thinking how utterly ridiculous the whole situation was. They had swapped a passionate, lust induced encounter in the canteen kitchen, for a polite session of tea and cake.

‘This is madness,’ she thought to herself, jumping again at a large thunderclap.

He turned his attention to her and said,

“Shall I put the television on?” 

“Yeah, that would be good,” she replied.

The only decent thing on was some run of the mill action film. Laura had never been into action films, but he seemed to become engrossed in it rather quickly, which gave her ample time to subtly study him.

Helen had never really done him proper justice. He was handsome, in his own way. Ok, so he would never pass as a Hollywood pin up, but there was something intriguing about his face, something that made him uniquely attractive. And right now, observing him, she was beginning to appreciate his looks a lot more, maybe even more than Michael’s.

The ‘supersized nostrils’ were now beginning to seem quirky and charming in their own way, and the strange warty thing did nothing if not emphasise his strong jawline.

He was in good shape physically, and this is where he definitely superseded Michael.  
Her estranged husband had devoted far too much of his life to alcohol and cigarettes, and they had taken their toll on his physique and general health. He was fairly capable of handling himself, he had got into a few scuffles over the time she had known him, usually alcohol induced. She could say with certainty though, if a fight were to break out between him and Brittas, the latter would win, hands down.  
Not that it would ever get to that state. Her manager was (for the most part) the least violent person she’d ever met, he never even retaliated when he was attacked by customers, or other members of staff; something which happened rather often.

But she had a feeling that he could be a knight in shining armour if he needed to be.

‘And he certainly was tonight wasn't he Laura? Riding in on his horse to rescue the damsel in distress from the clutches of his evil wife. Ok, so technically he had been the cause of the fight, indirectly, but he still had the right to play the hero card, a little bit.’

These thoughts about him caused her to suddenly want to clear the air, or at least talk through what had taken place. He seemed so serene at the current moment though, and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy him.  
He was a lit fuse right now, and she herself wasn’t far off breaking point.

Watching him, it occurred to her that he was using the film as something to get lost in, something to keep him from processing feelings he obviously didn’t want to process right now. She noticed he hadn’t touched the cake or his tea.

Once the film had ended, he turned to her and said,

“Bed time.  
I’ve made up the guest bedroom for you,” 

He opened the door to the guest room and switched the light on.

She’d never been in this room before. The pastel blue wallpaper and white carpet gave off an atmosphere of calmness and tranquility. The bed was smartly made up, and actually looked quite inviting. 

She knew she’d be asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

Finding something to wear to bed was a somewhat tricky task, as she flatly refused to wear anything of Helen’s, leaving her with only one real option.

One of his shirts, and a pair of his boxer shorts.

‘This isn’t weird at all,’ she thought, looking down at what she was wearing.

The storm seemed to have passed over, and she knew she’d sleep better for that.  
She climbed into bed, and was just in the process of fluffing up her pillows, when there was a knock at her door. 

“Dad’s just called, he got home safely,” he said, “I’ll just be next door if you need me.”

“Ok,” she said,  
“But what if Helen...?”

“I’ve put the chains on both the doors Laura,” he said reassuringly,  
“She’ll need a hacksaw to get past them.”

‘She probably keeps one in her bloody handbag,’ she thought, as she was dropping off to sleep.  
Nothing about the woman would surprise her now.

She was startled out of her sleep by a banging noise coming from the front door. Shooting up in bed she glanced over at the clock. It was just after 2am.  
He was obviously as much of a light sleeper as she was, as she heard him open his bedroom door, and make his way down the stairs.

Laura made a strong effort to calm her breathing, much as she had done before.

“It’ll just be Colin again, he probably wants to give me a box of chocolates or a bottle of wine or something.”

But it wasn't Colin this time.

“Gordon! The chain’s on the door, I can’t get in!”

‘Helen,’  
Laura’s blood ran cold. She clambered out of bed and moved over to the open window to better hear the conversation.

“That is the general purpose of the chain, Helen.”  
She heard him slide the chain back and open the door fully.

“Let me past Gordon!”

“Helen Brittas, you are not setting foot inside this house!”

“It’s MY house Gordon!”

“Not tonight it’s not! Not after what you did to Laura!”

“Oh for god’s sake, it’s Laura this, Laura that! She’s here isn't she!? Is she upstairs? In our bed? Waiting for you to return so that you can continue shagging the living daylights out of her?!”

Helen’s raised voice had caused a few of their neighbours to come out.

“Keep your voice down Helen!” he hissed

“Why? Are you worried she might hear me?! I know you’re here Laura!  
I know you’ve somehow wormed your way into my husbands affections!”

“Helen, I’m warning you...”

“But will he still be as interested in you when he’s heard what I’ve got to say?!”

“Go back to Julie’s, Helen.”

Laura glanced out of the window momentarily, and noticed that Helen was still in her stained purple gown.

“Has she shown you that hideous scar on her abdomen yet? It’s really quite vulgar, Gordon! And you know she’s only had one sexual partner don’t you?! That’s her estranged husband Michael! Bet she didn't tell you about him did she?” 

“Helen, I am not interested in anything you have to say!”

“And she was rubbish at it! She told me! She told me she was so nervous, and she didn't have the first idea of what to do, so she bought herself one of those sex education books and read it till she wore the pages down.”

Embarrassment flooded Laura’s cheeks.

“But the sex still wasn’t great was it Laura? You never actually told Michael that though did you?! You spent the whole time faking! Is that why you’re after my husband? Looking for someone that can actually get you off are you?  


That was the final straw for Laura. Not only had Helen embarrassed her in front of half the street, she had embarrassed her in front of HIM.

All fear of the woman forgotten, she tore down the stairs and past Brittas, and threw a punch straight at Helen’s cheek, causing the other woman to stagger backwards.

“You bitch! I told you those things in confidence!”

“For gods sake Laura!” cried Brittas, grabbing hold of her.

Laura had never punched anyone in her life. Television characters always made it look rather easy.  
In reality, it was anything but.

The searing pain that shot through her hand caused her to squeal in pain.

Helen had recovered from the blow fairly quickly however, and she began to advance on Laura. 

Her husband, however, quite possible the angriest that Laura had ever known the man to be, yelled at her,

“If you come any closer Helen, I promise you I will call the police!”

This did stop Helen in her tracks, but she was perfectly happy to announce to the entire street,

“Threatening to call the police on your wife, Gordon? That’s not very gentlemanly is it?”

 

Julie, who only lived a couple of streets down, had come to see what was taking Helen so long.

“What the hell’s going on, Helen?!”

“Gordon won’t let me in the house!”

“She has a right to enter her own house Mr Brittas! Besides, she’s only come back for some clothes!”

“Well she’ll have to borrow yours Julie! She’s not setting foot in here!”

“You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Helen’s the victim here, not Laura!” spat Julie.  
“It’s not her fault you can’t keep it in your trousers!” 

“We haven’t slept together, Julie!” he shouted back at her.

Helen once again attempted to enter the house, but the look on her husbands face caused her to back off.

“This isn’t over Gordon,” she said, pointing her finger at him.

Julie took the woman’s hand in hers,

“Come on pet,”

The two of them walked off down the road.

After pulling Laura inside, locking the door and resetting the chin, Brittas grabbed hold of her [uninjured] hand and led her into the kitchen.

“Why did you do that?!” he yelled at her, once they had reached the room in question.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?!”

His angry outburst had rendered her temporarily speechless.

“I asked you a question Laura!”

“I was upset,” was all she could manage.

“You were upset,” he said irritably,  
“And you think that justifies your behaviour?!”

“As a matter of fact yes I do!” she replied, raising her own voice.

“I thought you were better than that Laura, I really did,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face.

She couldn’t think of an answer, but a few tears of rage had begun to run down her face.

“She could have hurt you!” he continued,  
“More so than she’s done already! Did you even stop to think about that?”

“She embarrassed me!”

“I don’t care!” 

“Well I do!”

“Do you think I want the entire street knowing our business?!”

“You can’t blame me for that!”

“Well who should I be blaming then Laura?! Please tell me!?”

Laura lost it completely,

She got right up in his face,

“Look I have had enough! You bring me back here! You cook me a nice meal! You make a bed up for me! But all the while you’re behaving like a bad-tempered arsehole!  
I would really like to know why!?” 

“Because I’m in love with you!” he roared

There was a long, drawn out pause.

When he spoke again, his voice was a lot softer.

“I’m in love with you, and I really don’t think I can fight it anymore.”

Love.

It had emerged quite obviously tonight, that he was sexually attracted to her, that she drove him wild on a primal level, that he thought about her a lot more than he should have done. To actually hear him say the L word though...

That was a deal breaker.

She got up from the table, almost in a trance, and walked out of the kitchen

“Goodnight Mr Brittas,” she said as she walked past him.

She heard him say behind her, almost pitifully,

“I wish you’d call me Gordon.”

 

Approaching the staircase, she expected him to be following on behind her, just as he had done in the centre earlier.  
But glancing back, she saw that he was just standing in the exact same position, head down. 

Looking devastated.

 

She lay her head down on her pillow, and prayed that sleep would come to her quickly.  
Of course it didn’t as she was far too wound up to relax.

The bottom of her world had well and truly fallen out.

‘So after the events of this evening Laura, you’ve now lost two good friends, and a job as well it seems.’

There was no conceivable way she could continue working for the man, not after this evening’s big revelation, and of course their friendship was also well and truly over now.

She heard her bedroom door open.

“Go away Mr Brittas,” she said firmly.

But of course he didn’t listen, when did he ever?  
Instead, she felt him sit down on the bed bedside her, take her injured hand, and press what felt like a bag of peas on it.  
He didn’t say a thing, and neither did she. 

She did start to cry though, as silently as she could.

After a bit, he removed the bag of peas, and scooted up behind her, putting an arm around her middle. 

In her heart of hearts she wanted to tell him to sod off, but his closeness was far too comforting for her to want to say anything.  
As was the soft breathing on her neck.

‘He loves you Laura, he wants to comfort you.’

And she would let him, for tonight at least, she was desperately in need of comfort, and he was currently the only option.

The tingly feelings beginning to wash over her were a slight inconvenience though.  
He was as close to her now as he had been in the staff room.

‘When were you last held by a man Laura?’  
Not since Michael...

She jumped when she heard a rumble from the sky.

“It’s alright,” he soothed  
“It’s only an aeroplane.”

A warm, cosy feeling enveloped her, and she pulled the quilt more tightly round her.

Just as she was dropping off, the image of a bedroom in 1960s Essex formed in her mind. Two little boys sharing a bed.  
Blue wallpaper covered with cars, one little boy shaking with fear and crying his eyes out at the thunderstorm, the other soothing him to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M

Laura slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the slivers of daylight filtering through the small gap in the curtains.  
The second thing she noticed was the blurry figure of a man, sat on the couch by the window.  
She blinked her eyes a few times to clear them, and the blurry figure transformed into the man whose house she was currently residing in.

Not long out of the shower, judging by the dampness of his hair and the scent of coconut.

He was wearing a white polo neck and dark grey trousers.

He was also beaming at her.

“For god’s sake Mr Brittas!” she said, sitting up in the bed,  
“How long have you been sat there like that?”

He glanced at his watch,

“About half an hour now, Laura.”

“Half an hour!” she coughed, trying to clear the sleepiness from her mouth and throat.  
“Mr Brittas, that’s creepy!”

He frowned,  
“I don't see why it is. I wanted to make sure you were awake before I started on breakfast.”

“Right...ok,” she said, knowing full well that were much less creepy methods of achieving the same end result. 

“What time is it?”

“Quarter past ten,” he said, checking his watch again.  
The beam hadn’t yet left his face.

“Why did you let me sleep so late!?”

Laura couldn't remember the last time she’d had a lie in, her alarm jolted her out of bed at seven o clock every morning irregardless of whether she had to be at work or not. There was always so much to be done, even on her days off. 

“Because you needed it!” he said, playfully tapping her foot.

“Your nose is looking much better! As is your hand! That must be my sterling medical skills Laura!  
“What about your wrist?”

She peeled the plaster off and showed him.

“Almost as good as new!” he said.

“I think my head’s better as well,” she replied, feeling round to locate the bruise, and noticing that it was indeed a lot less painful than it had been the night before.

“Right!” he said, jumping up with a remarkable energy and enthusiasm for a Sunday morning.  
“Breakfast time! Don’t be long!” he said, passing his dressing gown to her.

And then he was gone, out of the room and, near enough, jumping down the stairs.

He was his usual bouncy self again, the miserable bastard of last night had well and truly gone it seemed, and Laura had her suspicions why.

“He thinks telling me he loves me has somehow made everything ok.  
Oh god he probably even thinks I feel the same way.”

‘Well how DO you feel about him Laura?’

That was a question she didn't feel she could answer right now, everything was still too raw from the night before. She felt hungover even though she hadn’t had a thing to drink.

‘It’s an emotional hangover Laura,’ she told herself, if such a thing even existed.  
‘Well if it doesn’t, I’ve sure as hell gone and invented it.’

Her one salvation was the fact that he was bouncing off the walls in standard “Mr Brittas” mode, making her embarrassment feel a lot less intense. It would have been ten times worse if he had been wandering round the house like a shadow, refusing to make eye contact with her.

A strong part of her was seriously considering jumping out the window and legging it home though.

But logical reasoning intervened and stopped this thought in it’s tracks.

She didn’t fancy a broken limb on top of everything else.

She put his dressing gown on and headed down the stairs to the kitchen, praying that he would keep all physical contact to a minimum so that she at least had a chance at keeping her sexual desire under control.

The problem was it had been far too long, and when she had been in a sexual relationship, it hadn’t been a terribly satisfying one.

‘You’re only human, Laura.’

She discovered him frying something in a pan that was filling the kitchen with a delightful aroma.

There was a large bowl of strawberries on the table, and a slightly smaller one with what looked like icing sugar in it.

“I’m making your favourite,” he said with his back to her.  
“French toast!”

“How did you know...”

“There’s lots of things I know about you Laura.”

She couldn’t work out if that comment was incredibly sweet, or incredibly creepy.  
Whichever it was, it had done nothing to assuage the awkwardness factor in the room.

“Mr Brittas, have you been stalking me?” 

“Not stalking Laura no,” he said, turning to look at her briefly,  
“Just quietly observing, from a distance.”

She couldn’t deny that a part of her felt a little flattered. Michael and her had lived together for two and a half years, but she knew full well that he wouldn’t know what her favourite breakfast was if she were to ask him.

“Is this my coffee?” she asked, pointing to the mug nearest to her.

“It is indeed!”

She took a sip, milky, two sugars...just how she liked it.

“There we are!” he said, serving hers up on a plate, and setting it down in front of her. 

“Thank you,” she said, feeling her appetite soaring by the minute as the smell shot straight up her nostrils.

You are more than welcome, Laura,” he said, returning to the cooker to cook his own.

She helped herself to some strawberries and a little icing sugar, and took a big bite.

It tasted amazing.  
He was winning her over with his cooking skills, if nothing else.  
Michael T Farrell couldn’t even boil an egg, more than likely down to the fact that he’d grown up with servants to cook for him.

She had almost finished devouring it by the time her impressive chef sat down at the table with his own breakfast, and swapped out his jovial demeanour for a more serious one.

“Laura, there’s some things I need to say.”

‘Oh god,’ she thought.  
‘Please don't make things any more awkward than they already are.’

“First of all,” he said, fiddling absentmindedly with his cutlery where it lay on the table,

“I want to apologise properly for my conduct in the staff room, it was completely out of order. I should have shown more restraint, I fully realise that Laura. It was just something about that dress, you looked so beautiful in it, and it’s been such a long time since...”

‘Not as long as it has been for me, I’ll wager,’ she thought.

“It’s fine Mr Brittas, it...”

“And I also need to be apologise for what happened in the kitchen, I don't know what came over me if I’m honest. I’m embarrassed to admit that I was behaving like some rampant teenager.”

“Mr Brittas it...”

But he was on a roll.

“And then there’s the car park, Laura, I think that’s the thing that I’m most ashamed of. I should never have laid hands on you in that manner, it was a totally ungentlemanly thing to do. I really hope you can forgive me for it, I need you to know that I’m not an aggressive person Laura! I just got scared that you were going to...he suddenly paused in what he was saying and lunged forward in an effort to undo the belt on the dressing gown.

“Did I hurt you Laura? Please, I need to know!”

She stopped his hands before they could go any further. Visions sprouted up in her mind of him near enough stripping her bare in his hunt for bruises.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him.

And that was the honest truth, his grip round her middle had been tight, but not tight enough to cause pain.

He backed off from her, looking agitated.

“Laura, as I said a minute ago, I’m not an aggressive...”

“Mr Brittas I’ve known you for quite a while now, I should think I’ve got a pretty good idea of the kind of person you are, don’t you?”

Despite getting it wrong on occasion [she’d lost count of the number of times he’d opened a door for her and then walked straight through it] he aspired to be a perfect gentleman at every opportunity.

“What about creeping into my bedroom in the middle of the night?”

He looked at her with an expression that seemed to be bordering on annoyance.  
“I came in to fix your hand Laura.”  


“Yes, and then you stayed.”

“You were upset,” he replied  
“I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She studied his face as he made a start on his breakfast, and was intrigued to find no remorse on his features whatsoever regarding what he had done.  
It was strange that he had apologised for everything else, but didn’t feel that he had done a thing wrong with the whole ‘spooning episode.’

She shook her head slowly from side to side, his strange opinions on things still had the power to surprise her from time to time.

Not that it mattered too much, she had enjoyed it.

 

She closed her eyes momentarily, in an effort to sum up the courage to say what she knew she needed to say.

“Mr Brittas, that thing I did in the canteen...”

“What, kissing my chest?” he asked, bold as brass, as if there had been nothing awkward about the situation at all.

“Yes,” she said eventually.  
“And reaching for your...”

“It’s perfectly alright Laura,” he said, holding up one of his hands.  
“It was just one of those heat of the moment things, I know it didn’t mean anything.”

So it was apparent that he had no concept at all of her being interested in him, sexually or otherwise. 

But that was her manager to a tee. Highly observant about the subtle things, but as ignorant as they come when dealing with something blatantly obvious.

They sat in silence for a little bit, him eating his breakfast, and her drinking her coffee.

“You seem in a slightly better mood than yesterday,” she said eventually.

“I’ll be honest Laura,” he said, finishing his breakfast and starting work on his coffee.  
“I feel like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. Finally admitting my feelings for you has made me feel liberated.”

“I’m glad it’s made you feel better,’ she thought a little bitterly.

“Look Mr Brittas,”

“It’s alright Laura,” he said, smiling knowingly,  
“I know you don’t feel the same way, but that’s not important.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“How can that not be important! You’ve professed your undying love for me, and you don’t think that makes things just a tiny bit awkward?”

“Not really no,” he said, looking at her obstinately.

“And what about Helen?”

His eyes seemed to darken all of a sudden.

“I’m not thinking about Helen today,” he said rigidly.

She could tell that he really meant that, it appeared to her as if he had closed off the portion of his mind relating to his wife.

“So where are you planning on going from here?” she asked.

“Well, everything’s back to normal now, Laura.”

“Everything’s back to normal You think everything can go back to normal? We just go back to being friends?”

He fixed her with a very serious expression.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Laura  
I couldn’t bear that.”

“But you see that’s exactly my point Mr Brittas,” she said, trying hard not to become exasperated with him.

“I don’t think we CAN go back to being just friends.”

His face paled somewhat.

“But I need you Laura, I need...”

“The dynamic in our relationship has changed, don’t you see that?”

“No,” 

Her patience with him was wearing thin, much like it had done the night before.

“Mr Brittas! Everything’s changed! How can you not see that?”

He said nothing, just retained his obstinate expression.

“And I think I’m going to have to hand in my notice.”  
She looked away from him at that point, not entirely sure she would be able to handle his reaction to her comment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him slowly shake his head from side to side, in the way that someone might react when they’ve just received the worst kind of news possible.

He then took both her hands in his,

“You don’t have to do that Laura, you really don’t! I won’t be able to cope if I can’t see your face everyday!”

His hands were pleasantly warm, and there appeared to be some caressing action going on.  
Something she didn’t think he was even aware he was doing.

“Yes well it’s not all about you Mr Brittas,” she said, yanking her hands free of his before his touch became too stimulating.

‘Any more of that, and I’ll be picturing him naked all over again,’ she thought.

He looked shocked momentarily, as if what she had said had actually resonated with him deep inside, and she was expecting him to protest, but he didn’t.

Instead, he got up to clear away the breakfast things.

She beat him to it, however.

“Let me,”

“It’s fine Laura I...”

“You made dinner and breakfast,” she said firmly,  
“Let me at least clear up.”

She thought he was going to argue the point, but he just smiled softly at her and sat back down at the table.

She was more than happy to clear up, any distraction from those wonderful hands was a welcome one right now.

Their fingers brushed as he passed his plate to her, which set off another spark.

“What’s happening about Helen?” she asked quickly, desperately trying to reroute her brain.

“She’s gone to stay with her sister in Surrey.”

“For how long?” 

“I’m not sure if I’m honest Laura, she’s taken the boys with her. Thankfully she brought them round this morning when she came to get some clothes, so I got a chance to say goodbye.”

“You let her into the house!” she said, spinning round to face him.

“I was supervising her Laura, I wouldn’t have let her anywhere near you!”

“She can’t just take your children though Mr Brittas! It’s not fair!”

“Well,” he said, taking a deep breath.  
“They’re not really my children.”

“I’m sorry?”

“They’re Helen’s from her previous marriage.”

“I had no idea,” she replied sitting back down at the table. 

“Of course, they're my boys whenever she wants food or clothing for them,” he said a little bitterly.

She was greatly surprised that Helen hadn’t let her in on that fact, they pretty much told each other everything, something she was now deeply regretting after the woman’s outburst from the night before.  
She winced as she recalled the memory of it.  
He now knew about her scar, which is something she’d never wanted anyone to know about. It ran from the centre of her navel down to the top of her thigh, and was hideously grotesque.  
It made her feel so ugly, that she had begun to avoid looking at herself in the mirror naked.

Michael hated it, and to be perfectly honest, she couldn’t say that she blamed him.

Although as bad as that revelation had been, it had been nowhere near as bad as the sex comments that Helen had heartlessly spilled to the man in front of her, and the knowledge that he now knew about her failings in the bedroom, was not helping to ease the anxiety she felt about the whole situation. Thankfully though, he didn’t seem to be bothered about it, or if he was, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

 

She had truly believed that Helen would keep her secrets, just as she had promised to keep Helen’s.  
Perhaps she wouldn’t any longer, perhaps she would divulge to the woman’s husband just how many other men his so-called faithful wife had been lusting after? Not to mention how many she had more than likely slept with.

There was only one problem with that. It would hurt Helen, maybe a little, but it would hurt him a whole lot more. 

She didn’t want that. Yes, he deserved to know the truth, but she wasn’t going to go about telling him in a manner that was just to get back at Helen. The woman needed to sort herself out and come and tell him face to face.

But she knew that would never happen. She also knew that the closer she got to the man, the more likely it would be that that responsibly would fall onto her shoulders.

That was a discussion she really didn’t want to have. It was up there with the  
‘You’re the one who knocked up Carole’ statement, in terms of bad conversation starters.

 

“Well, I suppose I ought to get dressed,” she said, getting up from the table.

“Ah yes I was thinking about that,” he said, getting up himself.

“Why don’t you give me your key and I’ll go and fetch some clothes for you?”

“Well, I was sort of planning on going home, Mr Brittas.”

“Oh,” his face fell considerably.

“It’s just I thought that maybe we could pop down to Poole for the day. The weather’s nice, I thought we could go to the beach?”

“You thought we could go to the beach?” she said, turning round to face him,  
“Are you mad?” 

“Just as friends!” he added.

“Look Mr Brittas, I’m truly glad that you feel a whole lot better about everything after your big announcement last night, and all the apologies you got off your chest this morning, but it’s not going to be such a quick fix for me. There’s a lot of things I need to process.

He was silent for one of the many few times in his life.

“I just enjoy your company Laura,” he said eventually.

“Can you take me home please,” she replied.

He nodded solemnly, and picked his car keys up off the table.

The drive to hers was a silent one, neither one knew what to say to the other, and you could have cut the tension with a knife.

 

“Just bring the dressing gown when you see me next,” he said, once they had reached her house.

He placed his hand on hers temporarily, another unconscious gesture she assumed, and the strange tingly feeling was now back in full force.

She couldn’t handle it, and so snatched her hand away, shouting,

“Will you stop touching me!”

“Sorry Laura,” he said, eyes wide, confusion written all over his face.

“Do you know something Mr Brittas?” she said angrily,  
“Sometimes I wish you’d never come to Whitbury!”

 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she slammed the car door shut, but she wiped them away furiously. She’d had enough tears for one weekend.

She watched him drive away, instantly regretting the nasty comment she’d made. It had just come out, much like the insults she had thrown at him in the canteen. It was apparently her way of dealing with unwanted feelings, in the same way that he had been the night before, with his uncharacteristic foul temper.  
Perhaps they were more alike than she thought.

Making her way into the kitchen, she stripped down to her bra and knickers, and chucked her blood stained blouse and skirt straight in the bin.

In doing so, she caused a waft of his cologne to escape from it, and take up residence in her nose, which took her straight back to the staffroom.

The memory of being pressed up against the wall and kissed so passionately, was so clear, it was almost as if it were actually taking place at that very moment.

But there was another feeling running parallel with the sexual one, one that was a great deal more concerning. A tug on her heartstrings perhaps? Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with desire.

In fact, it seemed to be becoming clearer to her that it was a feeling of...

She slammed the lid of the bin down hard, in an attempt to discard the unnerving thoughts along with the outfit. 

‘I’ll feel so much better about everything once I’ve had a shower and a fresh change of clothes,’ she told herself.

Her shower was indeed heavenly.  
The hot soothing water running down her back, felt as if it were washing away the tension of the night before.

She slipped on one of her summer dresses, a white one with red roses on it.

‘So,’ she said to herself, as she wandered back downstairs,

‘What is it exactly that you’re planning on doing all day, Laura?’

‘Gardening,’ she replied to herself after a bit.  
‘The weathers perfect, I’ll catch up on all the weeding that needs doing.’

On her way out to the garden though, it occurred to her that her pretty white dress would end up getting ruined if she spent all day gardening in it. She wasn’t even sure why she’d put it on in the first place. The thought from last night returned to her.

‘There’s no one here that you really need to impress now is there, Laura?’  
‘HE’S not here.’

She wasn’t entirely sure why she particularly wanted to impress HIM anyway.

‘Because you enjoyed him lusting after you yesterday Laura, and you want him to do it again...’

This thought caused a shiver to form at the base of her neck, and travel all the way down her spine.

She needed to change the dress.

Turning to go back to her bedroom, she noticed a red light flashing on her answering machine.

‘That can’t possibly be him,’ she thought.  
‘Unless he called when I was in the shower...’

She pushed the button down irritably, expecting a long winded plea about how he ‘needed her company.’

But it wasn’t the grating voice of her manager that spoke.

It was an American voice.

Michael.

‘Hey darlin, I hope you’re doing ok? I’m down in Whitbury for a few days, and I wondered if you wanted to catch up?’

Another involuntary shiver ran down her back, although this one had nothing to do with Gordon Brittas. This one was an instinctive reaction to her husband’s voice, which was more than likely the sexiest on the planet, in her opinion anyway.

“I’ve been thinking about you non-stop, I thought that if we got together and talked a little, maybe we could figure things out? I’m not sure when you’ll get this, but I figured I’d swing by about twelve thirty? The weather’s good today, I thought maybe we could go down to the beach at Bournemouth? Ok, well, hopefully see you then...I miss you baby.”

The call had apparently come in at eight o clock that morning, she didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it on her way to the bathroom.

Laura glanced at her watch, it was five past twelve. She needed to get out of the house; dealing with the infamous Michael T Farrell was was the last thing she needed today. She already had one man messing with her head, she didn’t need another one.

She jumped in her car, swore at it several times when the engine wouldn’t start, and finally pulled out of her driveway a lot quicker than she would normally have done.

Of course she didn’t have a clue where to go, and ended up at the nearest petrol station, where she sat desperately racking her brain for a solution.

She couldn’t believe she had just had two beach trips offered to her in the space of an hour.

‘Some women would kill to be me,’ she thought.

She began running through a list of all the people she could go and spent time with. All her colleagues would be busy doing ‘family things’, well all except for Colin, who never really did anything outside of work.

‘Do you really want to go and spend the day with Colin, Laura?’

No...no, things couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Her thoughts turned to Michael again, and she was frustrated to find herself actually considering giving him another chance.  
It was the voice that had done it. The voice that always made her swoon, and forget for five minutes the cheating pig that he was.

‘Whose to say there has to be any commitment though Laura? You could spend the day with him, enjoy his company, [which she always did] allow him to buy you an expensive lunch, and maybe a couple of other things to boot? Get him to drop you home again, and then tell him to sling his hook.’

She smiled at the thought of her being able to take control of their train wreck relationship, rather than having him holding all the cards as usual.

 

She briefly debated driving back.

Of course, there was another person in the equation as well now, and he was bound to be free. His wife and children had disappeared off to Surrey for god knows how long. He was probably sat at home polishing his shoes or something.

This thought brought a smile to her face.

Two beach trips, two very different men.

‘Which one are you going to choose though Laura?  
Essex or Chicago?’

The latter treated her like a princess, in terms of showering her with gifts. True, the sex itself hadn’t actually been great, but she had always enjoyed the foreplay. For the most part he was gentle, and certainly very attentive, and he knew how to make her laugh. He had exclaimed on several occasions how much he loved her, but she found herself constantly questioning the sincerity of his actions.

The former wasn’t particularly clued up in the wining and dining department, and he certainly wasn’t brimming with money. He had also declared his undying love for her, and she truly believed that he loved her for the person she was, rather than just for the reproductive organs that she possessed. Of course she couldn’t comment on his bedroom skills, but if his kisses were anything to go by... 

He also had the power to make her laugh, albeit indirectly.  
His bad decisions and questionable social skills, while frustrating at times, often put a smile on her face.

And yet she was frightened about spending time with him, because, bit by bit, she believed that she was falling for him, and that was something she desperately didn’t want to do.

Falling in love with someone made you vulnerable to being hurt. That was something she had had first hand experience with.

And then there was the amount of fallout involved.

He was her manager, eight years her senior, and married to a mentally unstable woman.  
Then there were the children, it didn’t matter whether they were biologically his or not,  
could she really live with herself if she broke up a family?

The prospect of spending the day with him seemed strangely enticing though.

She sat considering the matter for a few moments more, until the decision finally seemed clear in her mind.

‘Sod it,’ she thought, driving out of the petrol station.

Essex had come out the victor.

On the drive to his house, she prayed that he hadn’t decided to go out somewhere, she had summoned up the guts to do this, and didn’t want to lose her nerve. Relief washed over her when she saw his car parked in it’s usual spot.  
She wasn’t sure if he’d even give her the time of day after the last thing she’d said to him, but then, she had insulted the living daylights out of him in the canteen kitchen and he’d only appeared to have been mildly ticked off. 

Still, she steeled herself as she rang the doorbell.

When he answered, however, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Laura!” 

She watched his eyes take in her outfit, and could only marvel at the fact that he was quite possibly the only man she knew who was capable of looking someone up and down without coming across as creepy.

“You look pretty,” he said.

“Thank you.”

She noticed he had a shoe in one hand, and a duster in the other, and tried to hide her smirk.

“What did you want?” he asked, apparently not picking up on her facial expression.

“Mr Brittas, I’m sorry for what I...”

“Forgotten, Laura,” he said impatiently, like someone waiting for the other person to get to the crux of a really juicy bit of gossip.  
“What did you want to say?”

 

She took a deep breath.

‘Go on Laura, be brave, take the plunge.’

“I wondered if the beach trip was still on offer?”

The Christmas tree grin was back in full force.

“We’ll go right now!” he said, dumping his shoe and duster in the corner of the room.  
“I’ll just grab my wallet!”

“Do you think that we could actually spend a day together without yelling at each other? Or tearing each other’s clothes off?” she asked him, as they walked to the car.

“I assure you I’m going to be on my best behaviour today, Laura,” he said, as he opened the door for her.

“Glad to hear it,” she smiled up at him.

 

As they pulled away, she said

“Mr Brittas, those things I said about you in the canteen, none of it was true, I promise you,” 

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her

“I was just feeling...”

‘Exactly how were you feeling Laura?’ the little voice inside her head asked,  
‘Horny, sex starved?’

“I was just confused Mr Brittas, I’d had a bump to the head, remember?”

“That’s alright Laura,” he said reassuringly,  
“It’s water off a ducks back.”

“But Mr Brittas, I was really horrible to you!”

“I know you all think I’m a complete moron Laura, but I do have fully functioning ears.  
Do you know, I stand outside that staff room and listen to the things you lot have to say about me? Criticising my management style, criticising the way I speak, oh, and I know all about the secret meetings you have behind my back.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Do you know why I abolished my star chart Laura?”

“Well, I suppose it just wasn't working very well.”

“No. I abolished it because I got fed up to the back teeth of people trying to trade away their stars, because spending an evening at the Burley Inn with me was apparently the worse thing ever.”

A wave of admiration for the man suddenly came upon her. No matter how many knock backs he got, from both staff and customers, he picked himself up and carried on regardless.

‘Attractiveness rating shooting up by the minute,’ she thought.

“Mr Brittas, not everybody thinks that about you,” she said.

“Oh they do Laura, believe me they do!”

“Well Colin doesn’t!”

“Colin respects authority Laura. If I weren’t his superior, I can guarantee you he wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

 

“Well I don’t think it,” she said, and discovered that she had automatically laid her hand on his.  
He gave her a strange glance, almost as if he were waiting for her to whip it away again.

But she didn’t.

She had decided to take the plunge off the cliff, and it was too late to back down now.

He kept shooting her bewildered glances, in between keeping his eyes on the road.

“I really struggle to understand women sometimes Laura,” he said, pulling his hand away to change gear.

“You’re not the only man with that problem Mr Brittas.”

Glancing at the handsome man across from her, she felt a flurry of butterflies spring up from deep inside her.  
She’d always liked his hair, and today it seemed especially fluffy, not a trace of gel anywhere to be seen. She found herself wondering what it would feel like to touch, how it would feel if she were to run her fingers through it.

‘Is it as soft as it looks?’ she thought.

He interrupted said thought with,

“Oh I don’t believe it,”

“What?” she questioned, panicking that there was something wrong with the car.

“Look behind us.”

She did so, and burst out laughing when she saw what he was referring to.

The car, which had appeared behind them, was none other than Colin Wetherby.

“It’s alright,” she said giggling,  
“I don’t think he’s seen us.”

“He knows my car Laura.”

In answer to her manager’s statement, the car behind began to sound his horn excessively.

“I’m doing fifty five here Laura, if I have to do an emergency stop he’s going to be in big trouble!”

Laura glanced behind again, and noticed that Colin was indeed unhealthily close to the back of their car.

“Just ignore him.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Laura.”

Sure enough the blaring continued, and it had also now caused the cars behind Colin to join in as well.

“It’s like a really bad horror film isn’t it?” she chuckled.

“It’s not funny Laura!”

It was insanely funny though, and when Gordon Brittas got stressed out about rather comical situations, it generally made them all the more comical.  
Another way he always made her laugh, indirectly of course.

“You’ll have to wave at him Laura!”

“Why me?”

“I can’t take my hands off the wheel at this speed!”

He had a point there. 

“Well just give him a glance, in the rear view.”

“I’ve been doing several of those Laura, the majority of them being unpleasant ones, he’s not taking any notice!”

“Mr Brittas, I’m not sure I want him to know I’m in the car with you.”

“Laura!”

She gave in, rolled her window down and gave the driver behind a very obvious wave.

This satisfied Colin, and he waved back.

“Did he just take his bloody hand off the wheel!?”

“It’s alright now, he’s backing off.”

And Colin Wetherby was indeed backing off. He had also stopped blaring his horn, but he wore a hauntingly inane grin on his face.

“I’m going to have to have a talk with him tomorrow about safe driving practices, he could have...

But Laura had switched off to what he was saying, she had picked up on only one word.

Tomorrow.  
Monday, a work day.

A horrible cold feeling began to steal over her.  
How the hell was she going to face everyone? Especially with insane feelings now sprouting up for the man next to her.

“Are you listening to me Laura?”

“Yes,” she lied weakly.

She cleared her throat,

“Where do you think he’s going?” 

“I don’t know and I don’t care, just as long as it’s not where we’re going.”

Thankfully, when they turned left at the roundabout, Colin went straight over.

“You don’t think he’ll tell everyone do you?”

“Tell everyone what? That two friends are going out to spend the day together? I don't think anyone is going to have a problem with that, Laura.”

But she didn't think it would be as clean cut as that, not after everything that had happened. She attempted to push that thought to the furthest regions of her mind that she possibly could though.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out for a day trip anywhere, and she was already enjoying herself more than she had done in ages, even though they hadn’t even got to where they were going yet.

They weren’t far from their destination, but Laura still allowed her eyes to close for a moment or two, as she enjoyed the soft breeze coming from her open window, and the pleasant feeling of the sun on her knees.

Something told her that, despite all the crazy things that had taken place between the two of them, she was going to enjoy today alot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cancer reference

They got the their destination a little after one.

“Hungry?” he asked, as they got out of the car. 

“I could eat.”

“Fish and chips?” he suggested, pointing towards the small cafe on the pier.

“Sounds good,” she replied with a smile.

His lunch choice caused her to think about Michael. She knew that if she had accepted the offer of the day trip with him, he would be whisking her off to some top notch restaurant, the kind of places that always made her feel uncomfortable.  
Restaurants of that nature made her feel like she wasn’t dressed appropriately, or that her make up wasn’t quite up to scratch.  
Then there was always the frustrating scenario about which cutlery to use for which dish.

Michael had grown up eating in posh restaurants, and so it was all just second nature to him.

Fish and chips would do just fine.

Her companion scolded her when he saw her get her purse out at the counter.

“This is my treat, Laura,” he said.

“Mr Brittas...” she tried to protest.

“After everything my wife put you through yesterday Laura, you can at least let me buy you lunch.”

So she had smiled and put her purse back in her handbag.  
Anyone who knew Gordon Brittas, knew very well that there was no use disagreeing with him once he’d made his mind up about something.

She had to suppress a chuckle when he commented to her about the state of the man behind the counter’s fingernails. It stopped being funny pretty quickly though when he articulated this to the man, and insisted he go and scrub his hands before he served any more customers. He then demanded to see the food hygiene certificate for the establishment, causing everyone behind him in the queue to begin swearing.

Laura left at that point, mumbling something to him about needing the toilet. She didn’t think he was listening to her at any rate, he was in full flow. 

When he rejoined her outside, she noticed that he was miraculously unscathed.  
It was common for him to emerge from situations like that with a black eye or a bashed up nose.

“All sorted?” she enquired.

“I tell you Laura,” he began,  
“Some people just have no concept whatsoever of...”

“Let’s just have our lunch shall we?” she said, interrupting him.

“People like that really need to understand...”

“I’m getting hungry, Mr Brittas,” she said very firmly, and this seemed to get through, for he didn’t say any more on the subject.

 

They settled down on a nearby bench.

The beach was fairly crowded, which was unsurprising on a glorious day like today. There were lots of sandcastles being built, and large groups of people engaged in sporting activities.

“Thanks again,” she said, looking down at her sausage and chips.

“You’re welcome, Laura.  
I haven’t forgotten about paying for your outfit you know?”

“Don’t worry about it Mr Brittas, I bought it in a New Years sale, it cost me next to nothing.”

“That’s not the point, Laura” he said firmly.

For answer, she smiled softly at him.

“You know,” he said pensively.  
“I think Helen’s dress would have looked a lot better on you.”

“I don’t have Helen’s legs, Mr Brittas,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. 

Her manager’s wife was taller than the average woman, and her long legs made almost any outfit look sensational.

“No, but she doesn’t have your curves,” he said turning to face her, and causing her to notice, for the first time, how captivating his eyes were.

‘How have I never noticed their beauty before?’ she asked herself. 

She had never been a fan of hazel eyes, she generally preferred the mysterious, dark chocolate shade of her estranged husband’s. There was definitely something enticing about the irises in front of her though.  
A flurry of butterflies sprang up in her stomach, and she could feel her breath quicken momentarily. In the end, for her own sanity, she had to break his gaze and focus her attention down at her lunch.

“You know, I can’t remember the last time I had fish and chips on the beach,” she said, changing the subject.

She saw the glum look on his features out of the corner of her eye, and knew straight away that having his compliment rejected had upset him a little. 

“How about you?” she asked quickly, hoping to get the conversation back on the straight and narrow.

“Not for a while, Laura,” he said eventually, turning his attention away from her and gazing off into the distance.  
“Not for a while.”

They ate in silence for a bit.  
It was a calm and comfortable one though, rather than an awkward one, despite the more than obvious amount of sexual tension brewing between the two of them. It was just two friends having a day out together, enjoying each other’s company.  
True, one was head over heels in love with the other and the feelings weren’t reciprocated, but life wasn’t perfect.

“Mr Brittas,” she said, sucking the salt and vinegar from her fingers.

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask how your mother died? If it’s not too upsetting to talk about?”

“She had breast cancer, Laura.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s hard to remember much of it, me and Horatio were only seven when it happened. I just remember dad crying all the time.  
They catch it a lot sooner in this day and age don’t they? God knows how long that thing had been growing inside her.  
I remember she asked me to play the piano for her. I wasn’t any good, but she always seemed to enjoy listening to me play. That was the last thing she heard, Laura. I turned around when I’d finished playing, and she was gone. I thought she’d just gone to sleep, but I ran and got dad anyway. That’s when he told me...” his voice broke at the end of his sentence.

“I’ll never forget the way he cried, Laura.”

She suddenly felt as if she had been completely out of order in asking him about it, as he looked on the verge of crying. She took his hand in hers, and gave it a squeeze, much like he had done with her shoulders the night before.  
No tingles this time, apparently even her subconscious mind knew that any sexual feelings would be completely inappropriate at this moment in time.

She felt like she needed to say something.

“I didn’t realise that you and Horatio were twins?”

“Non-identical,” he confirmed.

“It must have been hard for your father, raising the two of you alone.”

“I imagine it was, but we never wanted for anything. He was always there when we needed him. Always praising us, encouraging us, telling us we could do anything if we put our minds to it.”

“Well that’s a lot better than my father,” she replied.  
“He knocked up our next door neighbour and then ran off to Australia with her.”

He frowned.

“So you have a half sibling in Australia?”

“I’ve no interest in meeting them, the less I have to do with my father, the better. I haven’t had contact with him since I was fifteen.”

“Does that not bother you though, that you have a brother or sister you’ve never met?”

It didn’t bother her in the slightest, even the mere mention of her father caused her blood to boil, and normally she would have shut down the current conversation quick as lightning. But the distraction appeared to have lifted his mood, and she was grateful for that.

He regarded her quizzically, and then simply said,

“My Laura, you’ve hardly touched your lunch.”

‘My Laura...’ she thought  
I’m really starting to like that.’

Looking down she noticed that he’d already finished, but hers looked relatively untouched.

“Not hungry?” he enquired, sounding a little worried.

“No,” she replied firmly,  
“I forget to eat sometimes if I get lost in a conversation.”

“Well you didn’t have that problem last night at dinner,” he said,  
“Or this morning at breakfast.”

“Maybe it’s because your food is far too delectable to leave sitting on a plate for too long,” she replied, a chip raised to her mouth.

“Are you paying me a compliment, Miss Laura Lancing?” 

“I suppose I am,” she replied with a soft smile, before turning her attention back to her meal.

‘Is this flirting?’ she thought  
‘Are we actually doing flirting now??’

It was certainly turning out to be an interesting day.

 

After lunch they explored the arcade, where she spent an embarrassingly long time at the coin dozers. She knew it was a fool’s game, but there was always something so satisfying about watching the coins getting pushed off the edge of the platform.

“You know these things are all rigged don’t you Laura? You might as well go and throw your purse into the sea!”

“Yes well, it’s fun,” she answered back.

She managed to persuade him to have a go on the claw machine, although that did incur a lengthy spiel about ‘tourist trap’s’ and ‘daylight robbery.’

He had to eat his words though when he managed to successfully grab a stuffed jaguar.

“Still think the odds are ridiculous?” she taunted him.

“I got lucky! That’s all,” he said, handing the toy to her.

After their stint in the arcade they went for a walk along the beach.  
She couldn’t believe how perfect the weather had turned out, especially after the horrendous storm of the night before.  
The reflection of the sun on the water had created a sparkling effect, and there was a soft cool breeze, keeping it from getting too hot.

Strolling along with her cuddly companion tightly stuffed under one arm, happy memories of Laura’s childhood came flooding back to her.  
She remembered all those weekends spent building sandcastles and splashing about in the sea with her parents.  
They were happy times...until her father’s disappearing act.

Everything about the day felt so comfortable, and so his hand slipping into hers felt like the most natural thing to do in the whole world.

“I don’t suppose an ice cream’s on the offering is it?” she asked, as they walked past the ice cream seller.

She declined walking over to the hut with him, saying that she wanted to remain on the beach and watch the waves. In truth, she wasn’t sure that she could handle witnessing another altercation.  
From her vantage point on the shore though, things seemed to be going rather smoothly. There didn’t appear to be any angry gestures taking place, or any ice cream being thrown about.

Watching him return to her, she felt her heart do a little somersault. Something about his graceful ambling across the sand, coupled with the breeze blowing through his soft fluffy curls, was Laura’s undoing it seemed.

Suddenly everything became crystal clear to her. Those feelings that she’d felt for him the night before hadn’t been a whim, nor had they been, as he had said, mere heat of the moment sensations.  
They had been as true as anything.  
Because Laura was in the sober light of day right now, head stable and clear. Not emotionally wrecked after a tussle with a psychotic woman, and yet the feelings of sexual attraction seemed stronger than ever.

She should have realised, she should have known. Every time he touched her he sparked pleasant sensations throughout her entire body.  
Now it was time to truly accept those feelings for what they were, and stop fighting them.

She fancied him more than a little, she fancied him a lot...an awful lot.

An sexual fantasy knocked at the door of her mind, and this time, she welcomed it in with no hesitation whatsoever. Her jumping him there and then on the sand, knocking the ice cream flying in her desperate bid to rid him of his clothes.

You were right to take that plunge off the cliff Laura, now roll with it!”

The star of her fantasy was holding a pink ice cream.

‘Strawberry,’ she thought.

Her favourite flavour...and he hadn’t even asked her.

“Didn’t you want one?” she enquired, as he handed hers to her.

“Ice cream’s never really been my thing, Laura,” he replied, wrinkling up his nose.

“Shame,” she said, as she took a lick of hers.  
“You’re missing out.”

They walked on for a bit more, until he turned her round to face him, pulling a tissue out of his pocket.

“You’ve got it on your nose,”

She pulled back initially when he attempted to wipe it clean.

“It’s alright, it’s not one of Colins, and it’s perfectly clean,” he reassured her.

“At least it’s ice cream instead of blood this time,” she said.

“I’m glad about that,” he replied

“Thank you,” she said, when he had finished.

“You’re welcome, Laura,” 

Something about the softness and warmth in his voice, and the gentleness in his eyes caused Laura to act a little inappropriately.  
Although it was nothing compared to the capers that had taken place the night before. In fact, in comparison with that, this gesture was ‘vanilla city.’

As much as she wanted to tear his shirt off and get an eyeful of that striking upper body physique [that she’d caught glimpses of through his shirt on many occasions.]  
She held herself back, this was neither the time nor the place for that kind of behaviour. 

 

So instead, she leant forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Pulling back from him, it felt as if they might kiss on the lips, their gaze locked so firmly on each other.

Instead he said, 

“I thought we were going to be on our best behaviour today?” he asked, a breathy quality to his voice.

“I was just saying thank you...for the ice cream...” she smiled coyly at him.

His expression was unreadable for a moment or two, and his next question surprised her more than a little.

“Can I hold you?”

“Yes,” she replied after a bit, her own voice now sounding a bit breathless.  
“Yes you can.”

 

As they embraced, she couldn’t help but think what a perfect postcard picture this image would have made, his arms around her waist, hers round his neck. The golden texture of the sand and the deep blue hue of the ocean.

Her half eaten ice cream, lying forgotten in the sand...

It was so intimate, it was so beautiful, it was...

“Laura, you’ve dropped your ice cream!”

He pulled away from her and pointed down at the discarded treat.

‘I’d had enough anyway, Mr Brittas,” she reassured him.

“You could at least have put it in the bin!” he remonstrated, squatting down and removing another tissue from his pocket.

“I was a little distracted at the time,” she protested gently.  
“Anyway there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Laura, what if some small child were to come along and...”

“Will you just forget about the sodding ice cream! I wondered if you would like to come round to mine for dinner this evening?”

He looked as if he’d been shot in the chest.

“I would like that Laura, I would like that very much.”

Now that she had fully gotten her head around the idea of being attracted to him, she wanted his affection.  
She was starving for it, in fact.

An annoying thought popped up in her mind though.  
She knew that there was going to be little chance of their [potential] relationship heading anywhere remotely sexual. He was a married man, and he’d never cheat on the woman with which he had made vows, no matter how angry he was with her at the present moment. She was surprised that he had allowed himself to bestow the amount of affection on her that he already had done.

‘He wasn’t thinking straight Laura...it’s that lust monster again, remember?”

Sill, Laura knew full well that sexual intercourse was the one deal breaker. She suspected that he’d want a complete and tied up divorce before he’d be willing to partake in anything in that respect, and that thought depressed her, a lot.

 

Later that evening while she was getting things set up for her meal, he was busying himself wandering round her front room, looking at all the ornaments and photo frames.

“How do you like my decor?” she asked, popping her head round the door.

“It’s good Laura,” he said, turning to face her,  
“It’s good.”

“Take a seat,” she said,  
“Dinner won’t be long.”

Just as he had said the evening before, there was nothing better than actually having someone to cook for, and she was looking forward to presenting him with one of her home-made omelettes.

She had fastened her apron, and was just in the process of getting her ingredients out of the cupboard, when the doorbell rang and a familiar voice called through the door.

“Laura honey, are you in there?”

She spun round in a panic.

“Oh god!” she cried, rushing into the living room.

“It’s Michael!”

Her guest looked puzzled momentarily.

“Michael?”  
“You mean husband Michael?”

“Yes of course I mean bloody husband Michael! You need to hide!”

“What?!” he said, irritably, screwing his face up as was his custom when he couldn’t quite believe what someone had just said to him. 

She pulled him up from the couch,

“You need to hide!”

“Why do I need to hide?!” he protested.

“I’m going to get rid of him alright! Just...get in the cupboard!” she cried, opening the door to the cupboard under the stairs.

“Laura, I’m not going to fit in there!”

“Well you’ll have to crouch!” she said irritably, pushing him in there.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just...”

She shut the door on him, cutting off the rest of his protest, and made her way to the front door.

“Hey baby!”

“What do you want, Michael?”

She hadn’t seen her estranged husband in person for at least six months, but he was no different.  
Tall, with greased down black hair, and a wide grin on his face.  
He was wearing one of his expensive suits, and had apparently seen it fit to douse himself in his favourite cologne, the one Laura had always hated.

It was far too musky for her liking.

‘It’s not like HIS cologne, is it Laura?  
Fresh, with light notes of lavender and citrus...’

Her toes curled a little at the memory of the aroma being forced up her nose in the staff room.

“You didn’t answer when I called round earlier,” Michael replied.

“I was out,” she replied simply.

“You didn’t reply to my message either.”

“I didn’t get it.”

Her face was set like flint, and she could tell it was unnerving him.

“Okay...” he said.  
“Would you like to do something now?”

“I’m busy at the moment,” she replied.

“Cooking I see,” he said, pointing at her apron, and sporting his charming grin once more.

“Room for one more?” 

“No I’d prefer to eat alone,”

“Hey come on Laura, I’ve travelled miles to see you!”

“Well you shouldn’t have done, now if you don’t mind, I need to get on,”  
She went to close the door on him, but he planted his foot in front of it, preventing her from doing so.

“Move your foot, Michael,” she said.

“Laura, I’m not leaving until you give me a good reason why you don’t want to see me!”  
He grabbed her hand, saying  
“I need you baby, come on, you know we can work things out?”

He stared deeply into her eyes, and this would normally be the point at which her resolve would begin to slip away from her.  
Not this time though...for some reason...

She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it firm.

“Let go of my hand,” she said, through clenched teeth.

“Laura,” he said, and she noticed that he was beginning to get angry.  
“I came all this way to see you, I think it’s a little rude that you won’t let me in.”

“I’ve asked you to let go of me, Michael!”

He went to say something back, but at that moment she heard the cupboard door creak open, this was followed by, 

“Why are you having such a difficult time understanding the fact that Laura asked you to leave?”

She rolled her eyes in frustration,  
Of course it was far too much to expect him to ever do what he was told.  
Now the situation was going to become a thousand times more complicated.

Michael frowned.

“Laura, why was there a man hiding in your cupboard?”

“He’s...he’s an electrician,” she spluttered,  
“He’s changing a fuse for me.”

It was a pointless lie, she knew her managers reaction to the comment would have given the game away. 

Gordon Brittas didn’t do lying.

Michael seemed keen to play to along with the game though.

“Your fuse box is up there,” he said, pointing upwards.

“Laura, why don’t you just tell him the truth!” the voice from behind her said.

“I’m sorry man, I have to ask...is that accent for real?!”

“What?!”

“Laura honey, I don’t know how you can cope with listening to that, I’d have gouged my ears out by now!”

The man behind her, suddenly approached Michael, and tore the American’s hand away from Laura’s.

“She asked you to let go! Now are you going to leave? Or do I have to use force??!”

“Oh ho, are you threatening me buddy?!” Michael squared up to Brittas, and the other man mimicked his gesture.

“I’m not your buddy!”

“Stop it the pair of you!” cried Laura, getting in between the two of them.

“He’s just a friend, alright Michael!”

“A friend who seems to think he has the right to tell me how and when I can touch my wife.”

“I don’t like seeing Laura being intimidated!”

Even with Laura anchored between them, the two men were still doing their best to psyche each other out.

“I was holding my wife’s hand, buddy! How is that intimidating?!

“I’ve already told you! I’m not your buddy!! Now if you don’t leave this house in the next five minutes, you’re going to see a side of me that you won’t like very much!”

“What’s he gonna do Laura? Take his clothes off?”

Michael apparently found this hilarious, and turned to share the joke with his wife.

But Laura was in no mood for jokes...and neither was her manager.

She’d never seen such an expression on his face before. It seemed that the man not given to violence of any nature was on the verge of snapping, and she was stone cold convinced that, had she not been standing between the two men, he would have smacked the American square in the face. She could feel the tension mounting up in his body.

‘He’s a coiled spring.’

The last thing she needed was a fight breaking out on her doorstep.

“Michael will you please just go!” she screamed at him.

To her great relief he backed off, whether it was the desperation in her voice or the ferocious expression on her manager’s face that had deterred him, she couldn’t tell, but he was leaving, and that was the important thing.

“This isn’t over, Laura!” he said, before turning and walking off down the garden path in a temper.

 

“Well,” said Brittas, once Laura had the shut the door.  
“I didn’t think he was ever going to leave.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted angrily.

Confusion reigned on his features.

“Laura, I don’t understand...”

“That ridiculous behaviour! You’re not a schoolboy in the playground, Mr Brittas!”

His expression changed very quickly, from confused, to borderline angry.

“He was threatening you Laura! I didn’t like it!”

“I don’t need a bodyguard! He’s MY husband, I know how to handle him! How do you think giving him a black eye would have helped the situation?”

“I wasn’t going to hit him!”

“Oh really?!” she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m not a violent man, Laura,” he stated very firmly.  
“I was just trying to scare him off!”

In her opinion, his expression had said a lot more than  
“I’m just trying to scare you off.”

She decided to drop the subject though. It had been a lovely day, and she didn’t want the whole evening ruined by her estranged husband’s intrusion.

 

After dinner they watched television for a bit, holding hands, their conversation rather mundane, to the point that Laura could imagine them as an old married couple years into the future.

“Shall I open a bottle of wine?” she asked him.

“That would be nice,” he said, his smile a calm and gentle one.  
“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just through the hall there,” she pointed. 

She headed into the kitchen and got the shock of her life when she saw her estranged husband sat at the table.

“Michael, how the hell did you get in here?”

“You know, you really should learn to shut your back door, Laura” he said, gesturing towards it.

“Anyone could come wandering on in here.”

“Tell me about it,” she said through gritted teeth.

As the day had been a warm one, she had left the door ajar to keep the bungalow cool.

“How long have you been sat there?”

“Long enough to witness that nauseating handholding session on the couch. You’re not seriously in a relationship with this guy, are you?!”

“Thats none of your business,” she replied firmly.

“Surely you can see he’s not right for you?”

“Oh what, and you are?!”

“You know we fit together Laura, you’ve always known it, why are you so insistent on denying it?

“Because we have no future together! It’s only a matter of time before you’d cheat on me again anyway!”

“I’m a changed man, Laura!” he said, placing his hands on his chest for emphasis.  
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you!”

Laura wasn’t entirely sure what was going on inside her brain, but it seemed as if she could finally see Michaels true colours.  
Before she used to see someone tall, dark and mysterious, someone captivating and exciting. Now he only appeared to her as sly and weasley. A self obsessed liar who would never change his ways, who would never place anybody’s comfort or happiness above his own.

Something had changed things in her mind, turned everything upside down.

Not something...someone...

 

This clarity was mind blowing.  
And this clarity brought with it one very lucid thought.

‘I don’t need him anymore. I don’t need to play his games anymore...he means nothing to me...’

She was about to tell him so, but her dinner companion had returned from the bathrooom.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing back here?!”

‘’Look Laura, your knight in shining armour’s back!” 

“I thought I asked you to leave!!”

“Do you mind? I’m trying to have a private conversation with my wife.”

“She doesn’t want to have a conversation with you!”

Just as before, Brittas adopted an aggressive gesture. A gesture that made Laura think of an animal with it’s hackles raised, desperately attempting to make itself look bigger.

“For Pete’s sake Mr Brittas! Will you please just sit down!”

He reluctantly sat down at the table...in the chair that put him directly opposite Michael.

She poured out a glass of wine and handed it to him.

“Drink that and let me do the talking, alright?”

“Mr Brittas!” said Michael,  
“You’re in a relationship, but you don’t call him by his first name?”

“We’re in a relationship??” said the Englishman.

“He’s my manager, alright Michael! At the leisure centre.”

“Oho, it just gets better and better! Laura, I know you’re just trying to make me jealous...but this isn’t terribly convincing. Why don’t you just stop all this dumb stuff and kick this moron out.

“What you call me?!” Gordon Brittas stood up from the table at once.

“Sit down!” Laura, said angrily, pressing down on his shoulder, and causing him, reluctantly, to return to his seat.

“Come on honey, you know I’m the only man you’re ever gonna be happy with? You’re no good at playing the field, you don’t have the confidence.  
Besides, this guy doesn’t know you like I do.”

“Right!” she said decisively, leaning against the counter top.

“What’s my favourite pizza topping?” 

The American hesitated for a moment.

“Well...um...”

“It’s margarita,” replied the other man.  
“Although you tell everyone it’s pepperoni because you think it makes you sound more daring...whatever that means.”

Michael looked momentarily put out, and said defensively.

“Well it’s hard for me to remember Laura! I haven’t been with you for ages! And we never really ate pizza that much!”

“We were married for long enough, Michael!”

“Ask me another one!” he said, eagerly.

“Alright, what’s my favourite film?”

“The wizard of Oz,” replied her manager.

“Hey that’s not fair, he didn’t give me a chance!” protested the American.

“My favourite Holiday destination?”

“Florida.”

“My favourite animal?”

“Penguin.”

“My favourite colour?”

“Red, although you don’t wear it much because you don’t think it suits your skin tone.”

Michael sat there totally aghast, as the conversation went back and forth in front of him like a ping pong ball game.

“My favourite love song?”

“Ah I know this one!” said Michael, stepping in quickly before his opponent could.

“It’s...It’s the song we danced to at our wedding!  
“It’s “Love is all around me!”

“That’s your favourite love song Michael,” said Laura, looking him square in the eye.

“But I thought,” spluttered Michael,  
“I thought you liked it too, I thought...”

“It’s ‘Only You,’ by ‘Yazoo’...and also by ‘The Flying Pickets,’” Gordon Brittas said, turning to focus his full attention on Laura.

As their gazes locked, a special moment was shared between them.

‘He really does know me,” she thought.  
The man who everyone accuses of being insensitive and unobservant, could probably write about a book about me.  
That’s because your apparently the one exception, Laura.’

A disgruntled Michael had noticed this ‘Special Moment,’ and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Ok, so I don’t know all the “superficial stuff,” he said, motioning his fingers to represent quote marks,  
“But I know you deep down Laura, I know you sexually.”

He lowered his voice slightly.

“I can please you on a whole other level.”

He grinned his trademark smarmy grin, the one that Laura had well and truly had enough of seeing.

It was time to up the stakes a little.

“He does too!” she said, pointing a finger at the other man sitting at the table.  
“In fact, we had sex last night...and I had three orgasms!”

She tried to ignore the sound of her managers wine glass shattering as it hit the floor.

Michael didn’t appear to have noticed it at any rate. He was far too busy being blown over with shock.

Laura never ever spoke so graphically about sex, and so her comment had really caught the American off guard.

“Three eh?” he managed to utter. 

“Three,” she confirmed, before moving across to put an arm round the Englishman’s shoulders.

‘In for a penny, in for a pound.’

“It was three, wasn’t it darling?” she questioned him sweetly as she kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Yes...yes...yes...it was three.”

“In fact,” she said running her hands sensually up and down his arms,  
“We were about to go upstairs and have sex right now weren’t we?”

“Were we?!?” he questioned her, and the look on his face would have been almost comical, had it not been for the heated situation.

She kissed his cheek, and then began working her way down his neck.

“Ok Ok, stop! I get it!” Michael cried out in disgust.

He looked angry.  
Not disappointed d, or overly emotional about the fact that his lover clearly had no feelings for him anymore.  
Just angry, almost like he had lost a crucial level in a video game

He got up with an exaggerated huff.

“I hope your ‘Leisure Centre Manager’ can make you happy Laura! Just remember, I could have given you a life of pure luxury!” he said, slamming the kitchen door as he left.

“Good riddance,” she said with a huff, and bent down to clear up the broken glass on the floor.

There was silence for a moment or two.

She grabbed some kitchen roll, and was in the process of mopping up the spilt wine, when she heard him say from behind her.

“You made me lie, Laura...you know I hate that.”

She paused in her activity.

“I know,” she replied softly.

“It’s just that...”

“Are you using me?”

She couldn’t find the words with which to reply straight away, because the sad truth of the matter was she had been using him...a little. Michael had cheated on her so many times, that she was desperate to get back at him.  
Desperate to show him that she could flirt with someone else and sleep with someone else.  
More than anything though, she wanted to show him that she was no longer under his thumb, that he no longer had any power over her.  
That power was completely gone now, courtesy of the man currently sat at her kitchen table.

“Yes I was using you,” she said,  
“But not entirely.”

“What does that mean?”

She cleared up the last little bits of glass and sat down at the table with him.

“I want to do it...have sex with you, I mean.”

“You want to have sex with me!?”  
His face screwed up in confusion,

“But you’re not sexually attracted to me, Laura! I thought just wanted to be friends!’

“Yes...well, it turns out that I am attracted to you,” she admitted shyly.

“I realised it today. I realised that I just cant fight the feelings I have for you anymore.

“But all those things you said in the canteen!” he protested,  
“You said that...”

“Yes but it didn’t mean anything! I was confused about my feelings! I was trying to keep you at arms length...It just seemed less complicated that way.”

He took this in for a moment or two.

“So you DON’T think I’m ugly then?”

She was horrified.

“I never said you were ugly, Mr Brittas.”

“Near enough Laura, near enough.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

“So you actually genuinely fancy me?” 

“I do,” she confirmed, taking his hand in hers.

“Wow,” he said, a smug grin forming on his face. He looked like someone had just paid him the best compliment of his life.

Which she supposed she had. 

“Does this mean that you lo...?

“Let’s just say that I like you,” she said, interrupting him.  
“I like you a lot.”

“It was all too soon for the L word as far as she was concerned. If she invested too much emotion in the relationship, she was convinced that she would end up getting hurt again.  
She really hoped he would appreciate this.

He appeared to.

“Shall I stay over?”

“That would be nice.”  
“Although I doubt very much that sex is going to on the cards is it?” she asked, a little hopefully.

‘My god, what is wrong with you Laura?!’ she thought  
The embarrassment hit her like a freight train, and she wished more than anything that she could take the question back.

She was lonely though...and craving the intimacy that sex provided.  
She was also pretty horny too.

His face was a picture of confusion.

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Look Mr Brittas, that just came out...I wasn’t thinking straight...”

“But you don’t love me?”

“What?”  
Now it was her turn to adopt a baffled expression.

“You don’t love me, but you want to have sex with me?”

She had to smile at that, he was nothing if not true to his old-fashioned nature. In his eyes, sex and love walked hand in hand.

“Because Laura, it’s important for you to realise that sex isn’t just based on sexual attraction. Sex is about the joining of two people who care deeply for each other.  
It’s about the temple...”

“The temple of the body, yes I know,” she said, finishing his sentence for him before he commence with a string of his famous hand gestures.

“At any rate,” he added.  
“I need to sort things out with Helen first.”

She nodded silently, while casting her mind back to the night in the staff room, and the kitchen for that matter. The evening where his morals seemed to have taken a flying leap. She referred back to her earlier thought about the lust monster. The two of them hadn’t been in their right minds that was for sure, the violence of the evening had sent them both doolallly. She had to wonder though, just how far he would have taken things in the staff room if she hadn’t stopped him.

Not that any of that really mattered now though, he was back in his normal  
‘Gordon Brittas,’ processing mode, and that meant she could be waiting a very long time. 

She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to wait for an entire divorce process to be over before she’d get some action in the sack

“That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he said defensively.

“Believe me Laura, if things were different, I would happily take you to the bedroom this very minute, and give you the night of your life!”

His words stunned her into silence momentarily, she could only marvel at how confident he appeared to be regarding his ability to please her.

‘That’s Gordon Brittas, Laura...you know him well enough by now. He wouldn’t know the term ‘Lack of Confidence’ if it came up and bit him on the backside.  
He is so self-assured in everything that he does..why would sex be any different?’

While Helen had moaned about his lack of overt passion towards her, she had praised his ability in the bedroom department, and Carole had referred to her mystery lover as a ‘Wonderful man.” Maybe he did have a right to that conceit? 

‘It’s a going to be a while before you find out for yourself, Laura.”

“It’s just complicated,” he continued.

And it was for him, although her and Michaels divorce hadn’t fully taken place yet, they had been separated for two years, and that was good enough for her.

But the man in front of her had morals stricter than any man she’d ever met.  
She found herself wanting to tell him about Helen’s unfaithfulness, but wasn’t really sure how to find the words. Besides, she didn’t think it would really make any difference. Helen hadn’t upheld her marriage vowels, but he would still insist on holding his...she knew that without question.

“Will you at least sleep in the bed next to me?”

“I would love that,” he said, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear.

 

As they curled up in bed together later that night, there was an important question that Laura knew she had to ask.

“Mr Brittas?”

“Yes, Miss Lancing,” 

She picked up on his point.

“Gordon?” she said instead, wondering how long it would take her to get used to calling him that.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

There was a long pause, which made her feel somewhat uneasy, she began to think that perhaps it had been an inappropriate question to ask.

“Since the day I met you,” he replied simply.

“Since then?!” she said, turning round so that she was facing him.  
She definitely needed clarification on that point. 

His face took on the faraway look that it often did when he went off into one of his  
‘I have a dream” moments.

“The moment I walked into that room and saw your smile, was the moment that everything in my life changed. You turned everything upside down Laura. I remember the warm silky feeling of your hand when I shook it, and the delicate scent of your perfume. I knew straight away that you were different Laura, different from everyone else.”

His words resounded deeply in her, she was unable to believe that he had been holding a torch for her for that long.

“Then I met Colin,” he continued.

She laughed loud at this.

“I think that’s what they call going from one extreme to the other Mr Bri—-Gordon.  
What about Helen though, how do you feel about her?”

“I’m not sure right now, I think I may have fallen out of love with her Laura.”

She cleared her throat, here was another awkward question that she felt like she really needed to ask.

“Helen told me you haven’t, you know? For a long time.”

He sighed.

“I’ve been trying to avoid it as much as I can...every time we do, I just can’t stop thinking about you, and as times gone on, its just got worse and worse. As I said yesterday, I just can’t fight it anymore.”

She half expected him to start questioning her about her and Michael’s sex life, but he clearly had no desire to do so, not at this current moment at least.

 

She kissed him on the forehead and turned back round in preparation for sleep.

“You know,” she said, a tad concerned,  
“I’m going to have to call you Mr Brittas at work. At least until we’ve cleared up the mess this new relationship is going to generate.”

 

“I know Laura...I know...,” he pulled her closer to him, almost as if he were afraid that she would slip away like an untethered balloon.

Laura closed her eyes and reflected on the events of the day.

‘Are you genuinely considering a relationship with this man, Laura? Yes, he’s been on his best behaviour today, more or less, but what will happen when he’s back in his ‘managerial role’ tomorrow? He’s going to be driving the customers crazy, making bad decisions, and upsetting the staff.  
He’s going to cause chaos Laura, he always does, and you’ll be the one having to pick up all the pieces of his destruction. How long before you get fed up with it, just like Helen has?  
A random wave of sympathy for her ex-best friend washed over her. 

Maybe it’s his behaviour thats caused her to become to mentally unhinged. 

Could he be changed though? People could change. Maybe if she worked on him...worked on his flaws.

What are you saying, Laura?! That’s just the way he is! That’s just his personality!  
When you love someone, you’re supposed to accept them for how they are.

 

Hold on a second...love?

Love?

Oh dear...that’s come along a lot quicker than I expected it to.

You’ve done a lot more than just jump off the cliff Laura, you’re now well and truly submerged in the water.

Yes I am’ she replied to her brain.  
‘And I don’t think I’ll be coming up to the surface again any time soon.’

‘I tried to fight that feeling...I tried so hard to fight it...’

The last thing Laura registered that night was a light kiss on the back of her neck


End file.
